LIBRARY 

OK  THK 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


Deceived  JAN  1895         ,  /&? 

Accessions  No.iffi$/7.        CAzss  No. 


\.A   ' 

fa 


SNAP   NOTES 


AN   EASTERN  TRIP 


FROM    DIARY    OF 

FANNIE  DE  C.  MILLER 


When  found,  make  a  note  of  " 

—  Captain  Cuttle 


SAN  FRANCISCO 
THE    S.    CARSON    COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  AND  BOOKSELLERS. 

1893 


srf'f 


To 
MY  SISTERS,  NELLIE,  TESSIE  AND  JOSIE,  WHO  AFFORDED  ME 

THE    TRIP,    AND  MRS.   B.   D.  MURPHY,   WHO 

ADDED    TO    ITS 

ENJOYMENT,  I  DEDICATE  THESE  STRAGGLING 

NOTES   AS    A   SLIGHT   SOUVENIR   OF   MY   APPRECIATION    OF   THE 
PLEASURE    EXPERIENCED. 


PREFACE. 


IN  presenting  these  hastily  snatched  notes  for  perusal 
my  friends  will  generously  bear  in  mind  the  fact  that  no 
attempt  at  literary  effort  is  intended.  Having  had  the 
benefit  of  the  trip  and  enjoyed  it,  I  reproduce  some  of 
the  leaves  of  my  diary  for  private  circulation,  and  may 
be  pardoned  for  so  doing  since  it  is  commemorative  of  my 
first  visit  outside  the  bounds  of  the  California  peninsula. 
That  many  pages  of  this  little  book  may  contain  faults  I 
readily  acknowledge  and  must  regret,  in  view  of  my 
motto,  Scriptum  manet.  F.  DE  C.  M. 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

I.     OVER  THE  RANGE 9 

II.     FROM  OGDEN  EAST  OVER  THE  DENVER 

AND  Rio  GRANDE 17 

III.  FROM  DENVER  TO  DETROIT     ....  32 

IV.  A  VISIT  TO  NIAGARA 45 

V.     THE  CITY  OF  BOSTON 58 

VI.  GLIMPSES  OF  NEW  YORK 75 

VII.  A  TRIP  UP  THE  HUDSON 88 

VIII.  THE  CITY  OF  BROTHERLY  LOVE  ...     96 

IX.  A  VISIT  WITH  CARDINAL  GIBBONS  .     .102 

X.       ROSELAND  AND  ENNISCORTHY,  TYPICAL 

SOUTHERN  HOMES       .     .     .  .     .108 

XI.     SCENES  IN  GETTYSBURG     .     .     .  .     .115 

XII.     THE  CITY  OF  EMMITTSBURG,  THE  OLD 

HOMESTEAD  AT  UNION  MILLS  .     .125 

XIII.  MOUNT  VERNON 

XIV.  THE  CAPITOL  AT  WASHINGTON    .  .     .137 
XV.     LAST  DAYS  IN  MARYLAND     .     .  .     .143 

XVI.     HOMEWARD  BOUND 150 

XVII.     SALT  LAKE  CITY 157 

XV] II.    HOME  AGAIN 161 


SNAP  NOTES. 


CHAPTER  I. 
OVER  THE  RANGE. 

August  17,  1891. 

THE  afterglow  of  sunset,  gleaming  through 
warm  folds  of  purple  haze  overhanging 
the  crest  of  Tamalpais,  steals  down  softly  and 
silently  over  rippling  waves  of  the  lovely 
bay,  as  we,  a  knot  of  kinsfolk,  seat  ourselves 
comfortably  in  the  Oakland  ferryboat,  prepar 
atory  to  temporarily  exchanging  California's 
matchless  clime  and  genial  fellowship  for  East 
ern  scenes  and  society.  Later,  'twixt  the  hours 
of  seven  and  eight,  darkness  crept  "  from  the 
wings  of  night,"  and  finds  us  cozily  en 
sconced  in  the  drawing  room  of  a  Pullman 
palace  carriage  midway  in  the  train  of  four 
teen  cars,  and  forming  a  direct  contrast  to  the 
historical  pilgrims  who  trod  westward  the  same 
route  in  less  enviable  style,  in  the  memorable 
"pioneer  days." 

(9) 


10  SNAP  NOTES. 

After  friends,  who  accompany  us  thus  far, 
have  taken  leave  of  the  party,  we  start  on  the 
Eastward  "tack,"  and  ere  lapsing  many  miles 
partake  of  a  collation,  plenteously  provided  by 
a  thoughtful  friend. 

Now,  watching  the  Marin  hills  slowly  fading 
into  the  dim  distance,  with  the  familiar  out 
lines  of  grand  old  Tamalpais  gradually  reced 
ing  from  view,  effects  a  sense  of  lonesomeness 
only  experienced  when  leaving  those  we  love, 
by  whom  we  have  been  always  surrounded, 
even  though  absence  may  cover  but  the  space 
of  a  few  months.  The  shadow  of  gloom  is 
partly  dispelled  by  our  chaperon's  call  to 
cheerfulness,  with  a  gentle  reminder  that  the 
spirit  of  happiness  and  mirth  should  govern 
the  members  of  our  party,  whom  I  shall  en 
deavor  to  introduce  to  my  diary.  We  are  five. 
Busily  engaged  hanging  hats,  wraps,  etc.,  where 
they  must  remain  for  several  days,  is  Mrs.  Mur 
phy,  worthy  wife  of  my  excellent  cousin,  Hon. 
B.  D.  Murphy,  of  San  Jose.  Merrily  humming 
"Mary  and  John,"  she  is  cheery  and  light- 
hearted  as  a  bird,  and  anxious  that  all  should 
be  as  happy  as  herself. 

Reclining  lazily  on  a  cushioned  sofa  is  her 
daughter,.  Miss  Evalyn,  who,  after  gracefully 
cutting  the  pages  of  "  Under  Two  Flags,"  lan 
guidly  prepares  for  rest,  A  recent  student 


0  VER  THE  RA  NGE.  1 1 

with  the  Madames  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  I  hope 
for  interesting  conversational  companionship 
in  this  accomplished  daughter  of  my  respected 
kinsman,  which  hope  gilds  the  prospect  of  a 
long  journey  with  pleasure. 

Arranging  her  locks  before  one  of  the  many 
mirrors  that  line  our  boudoir,  stands  Miss 
Maud  Arques,  my  other  cousin,  a  perfect 
"daughter  of  the  gods,  divinely  tall,"  and 
lovely  as  an  houri,  her  olive  complexion  and 
black  hair  proclaiming  her  one  of  "Spain's 
dark-eyed  daughters." 

Darting  hither  and  thither,  to  and  from  the 
drawing  room,  the  life  and  joy  of  the  occasion, 
a  "bother  "yet  a  pleasure,  is  Martin  Murphy, 
eldest  son  of  Hon.  B.  D.,  destined  for  George 
town  University,  whither  his  mother  is  accom 
panying  him.  Last  and  least  is  this  "  chield 
amang  ye  takin'  notes, — and  faith  I'll  print 
them!"  Retiring  at  ten  o'clock,  I  find  to  my 
anxiety  that  slumber  fails  to  visit  mine  eyelids, 
and  am  wide-awake  at  eleven  o'clock,  as  we 
are  launched  into  Sacramento,  where  we  linger 
a  weary  length  of  time.  Mrs.  Murphy  and 
Miss  Arques,  who  have  not  retired,  are  looking 
out  upon  the  city  and  conversing  with  ac 
quaintances.  Sleep  for  me  has  vanished  for 
the  night,  the  unusual  noise  and  motion  of 
the  cars  having  banished  "nature's  sweet  re- 


12  SNAP  NOTES. 

storer,"  leaving  me  awake,  to  the  influence  of 
thought-producing,  meditative  night. 

August  18,  Tuesday. 

We  climbed  the  Sierras  during  the  hours  of 
darkness,  and  nothing  more  picturesque  than 
long  snowsheds  meets  my  glance  of  curiosity 
and  interest,  as  I  stealthily  raise  the  curtain 
for  a  glimpse  of  the  rugged  scenery.  At  eight 
o'clock  we  arrive  at  Truckee,  but  must  note  the 
environs  and  town  on  our  return  trip,  as  I  am 
too  tired  and  unrefreshed  to  view  it  satisfacto 
rily,  in  the  somber  gray  of  early  morning. 
Steaming  along  the  south  bank  of  the  Truckee* 
where  romantic  beauty  abounds, — water  rip 
pling  over  rocks  in  frothy  fretfulness,  the  low, 
craggy  banks  fringed  with  tamarack  saplings 
and  fragrant  pine  trees — but  at  these  I  may 
only  glance,  as  breakfast  is  announced,  and  we 
must  proceed  to  the  dining  car.  During  the 
meal  we  enter  Reno,  at  nine  o'clock.  The 
dusky  tribe  are  out  in  full  force  and  glare  of 
color,  the  women  particularly  brilliant  in 
flashy  calicoes,  and  heads  ornamented  with 
bright  'kerchiefs,  that  on  Arabs  might  be 
called  tarbooshes,  or  perhaps  kufiyehs,  but  our 
more  familiar  and  comprehensive  language 
simply  styles  bandannas.  The  novel  scene  is 
especially  interesting  to  a  veritable  " innocent 


OVER  THE  RANGE.  13 

abroad"  like  myself.     I  admire  the  valley  out 
stretching    from     Reno,   but   the   admiration 
ceases  when  the  eye  is  carried  to  the  hills,  arid 
and  bleak -looking  in  their  covering  of  sage 
brush.     A   monotonous   sameness    of    lifeless 
waste  characterizes  the  country  until  reaching 
Wadsworth,  on  the  east  bank  of  the  Truckee, 
two  hundred  and  seventy-eight  miles  from  San 
Francisco.     Here   we  delay   for   ten   minutes, 
alight  from  the  train,  stroll  about,  and  Martin 
tries  several  kodak  pictures.     When  about  re- 
entering  the  train,  I  meet  Mr.  John  T.  Malone, 
the  actor,  who  remembered  me  from  my  con 
vent  days.     He  was  delighted  to  have  met  the 
party  at  Sacramento,  and,  upon  Mrs.  Murphy's 
invitation,  enters  our  drawing  room,  and  enter 
tains  us  most  agreeably.     He  pointed  out  the 
"sink  of  the  Humboldt,"  of  which  I  have  so 
often  heard  my  father   speak,  in  relating  his 
pioneer  experiences   and   vicissitudes  crossing 
these  "plains."     We  are  pleased  to  have   Mr. 
Malone's  interesting  companionship  over  this 
"  realm  of  drifting  sand,"  the  Humboldt  Desert, 
which  takes  a  whole  day  to  span.     He  recalls 
some  incidents  of  my  earlier  acquaintance  with 
him,  amuses  us  with  accounts  and  plots  of  dif 
ferent  plays,  and,  indeed,  makes  us  feel  how 
"  lightly  falls  the  foot  of  time,  that  only  treads 
on  flowers."     My  first  letter  home,  to  dear 


14  SNAP  NOTES. 


lie,  I  post  at  Lovelocks,  in  the  heart  of  the  des 
ert.  Our  next  stopping-place  is  Humboldt,  a 
fresh,  green  spot,  a  perfect  oasis,  indeed,  in  this 
dreary  sand  waste,  and  here  we  take  our  lunch 
eon,  enjoying  a  waiting  of  ten  minutes.  Martin, 
our  "  local  artist,"  essayed  to  kodak  our  group, 
with  Mr.  Malone  in  the  center. 

It  is  now  3:30  p.  M.  and  Winnemucca  lies  in 
sight,  a  larger  town  than  I  expected  to  see,  but 
no  [more  charming  in  appearance  than  others 
of  the  vast,  dreary,  sterile  plain,  that  "lies  like 
a  load  on  the  wearied  eye."  The  name  is  In 
dian,  and  the  cognomen  of  a  Piute  chief  who 
was  one  of  several  who  resided  here  during 
the  romantic  era  of  the  West. 

At  four  o'clock  we  pass  through  Elkon,  an 
other  desert(ed)  village  of  no  great  prominence, 
and  I  glance  out  with  the  same  result,  the  old 
"bald,  blear  skull  of  the  desert"  still  shining 
under  glare  of  the  sinking  sun. 

Battle  Mountain  is  reached  at  5:30  P.  M., 
where  Mrs.  Huntsman,  a  former  resident  of 
San  Jose,  keeps  a  wayside  hotel,  which  was 
shown  to  us,  with  the  proprietress  in  the  front 
yard.  The  place  derives  its  name  from  the 
fact  that  thirty-five  or  more  years  ago  was  wit 
nessed  a  desperate  contest  between  white  emi 
grants  and  settlers  and  Indians  in  the  valleys, 
or  river  "sinks,"  of  Reese  River  country,  which 


OVER  THE  RANGE.  15 

gave  the  name  "Battle  Mountains"  to  the  gen 
eral  range  south  of  this  town.  And  now,  as  we 
speed  onward  at  the  rate  of  twenty -five  or  more 
miles  per  hour,  I  peer  backward,  and,  far  as  the 
taxed  vision  can  stretch,  I  see  the  arid  plains 
still,  mapping  a  great  territory,  never  seeming 
to  diminish  nor  vary  in  feature, — sagebrush 
and  sand,  with  occasional  green  spots,  where 
cattle  gather,  well  appreciating  the  dwarfed 
herbage  on  these  pleasant  places  of  this  dull, 
desolate,  sage-ridden  land.  My  fancy  wings  it 
self  with  thoughts  of  the  early  travelers  to  the 
Western  slope.  How  many  times  they  crossed 
the  winding  Humboldt!  How  wearily,  yet 
patiently,  they  must  have  breathed  the  hot  air 
and  alkaline  dust  of  this  trackless,  treeless  wil 
derness!  Or,  if  its  broad,  flat  bosom  rested 
'neath  a  mantle  of  snow  when  they  were  wend 
ing  their  way  to  the  Western  Mecca  of  their 
hopes,  how  irksome  to  the  eye,  how  discourag 
ing  to  the  anxious  heart,  the  outlook  of  their 
cherished  plans! 

Ere  approaching  Argenta,  I  remark  herds  of 
healthy-looking  stock  calmly  browsing  along 
the  banks  of  a  refreshing  stream,  but  looking 
as  tired  of  the  "  still  solitudes  of  the  desert "  as 
ourselves.  Argenta  (silver)  is  a  small  spot  not 
worthy  of  note  beyond  the  fact  that,  after  cross 
ing  the  Humboldt  River,  it  ushers  us  into  the 


16  SNAP  NOTES. 

Valley  of  the  Palisades,  a  strange  uprising  of 
rocky  formation  on  both  sides  of  the  railroad, 
with  a  swiftly-coursing  creek  on  the  south  side. 
After  emerging  from  the  canon  and  indulging 
in  more  desert  land  we  touch  Carlin,  an  impor 
tant  town  of  many  thousand  inhabitants.  It  is 
here  that  the  Mary's  Creek  joins  the  oft- 
mentioned  Humboldt.  A  brief  pause,  and  we 
again  bowl  along  towards  Elko,  the  cattle- 
shipping  point  of  the  plains,  whence  the  herds 
of  stock  are  forwarded  eastward.  Passing  sev 
eral  small  stations  we  come  upon  Halleck, 
which  embraces  four  houses  on  the  south  side 
of  the  railroad  track,  and  Uncle  Dan  Murphy's 
large  dwelling  standing  alone  on  the  north  side, 
as  isolated  of  cheerful  surroundings  as  is  a 
man's  life  in  the  midst  of  a  divided  household. 
It  is  now  late;  we  close  our  windows.  Mr.  Ma- 
lone  has  remained  in  our  drawing  room  con 
versing,  but,  midnight  approaching,  he  and 
Martin  have  taken  leave,  and  we  retire,  weary 
and  heavy  eyed. 


CHAPTER  II. 

FROM  OGDEN  EAST  OVER  THE  DENVER  AND 
RIO  GRANDE. 

August  19,  Wednesday. 

WE  were  awakened  this  morning  at  half 
past  six,  at  Ogden,  and  found  breakfast 
waiting  for  us  in  the  hotel.  Mr.  Malone  is  with 
us  until  his  train  starts,  when  we  part,  to  con 
tinue  the  journey  by  the  Denver  and  Rio  Grande, 
over  Burlington  route,  he  pursuing  his  course 
by  Central  road,  via  Cheyenne,  etc.  We  leave 
Ogden,  the  great  railroad  center,  about  half  past 
eight  o'clock.  We  are  now  eight  hundred  and 
thirty-three  miles  from  San  Francisco.  The 
Weber  River  runs  to  the  right  of  the  road  going- 
east  and  the  great  craggy  range  of  the  Wasatch 
Mountains  stands  out  on  the  left.  At  Ogden,  in 
Weber  County,  Utah,  four  different  railroad 
lines  meet.  The  valley  leading  to  the  Jordan  is 
a  generous-sized  plain  under  cultivation,  and 
nearing  Salt  Lake  City  is  refreshingly  green 
and  beautiful,  with  the  bosky,  bleak  mountains 
towering  cloudward  to  the  east.  Wood's  Cross- 

2  (17) 


18  SNAP  NOTES. 

ing  and  other  Mormon  hamlets  scatter  along 
until  we  reach  the  prophet's  town,  a  large,  flat 
city,  with  long,  tree-lined,  shady  streets,  a  busy 
population,  evidences  of  industry  on  all  sides, 
the  general  air  of  the  place  having  an  inviting 
charm,  indescribable  in  such  brief  notice.  The 
houses  are  built  principally  of  brick.  It  is  the 
largest  city  I  have  seen  since  leaving  San  Fran 
cisco.  Arriving  here  at  9:45  o'clock  A.  M.,  we 
are  bounding  through  the  valley,  Avith  its  soft 
carpet  of  green  alfalfa  and  other  rich  grasses, 
squares  of  grain  fields  lately  cut,  corn  just  in 
tassel,  in  abundance,  and  everything  speaking 
with  a  voice  of  plenty. 

I  should  judge  the  climate  to  be  unexcelled, 
out  of  California,  of  course. 

The  rugged  Wasatch  Range,  on  our  left,  as 
we  steam  through,  is  as  absolutely  picturesque 
as  the  high  mountains  of  Italy,  of  which  we 
read,  and  deserves  to  be  entitled  the  American 
Alps.  At  present  these  mountains  are  in  places 
covered  with  a  white  limestone  resembling  snow, 
and  are  wildly  grand  beyond  powers  of  my  un- 
traveled  mind  to  pen  paint.  I  marvel  if  human 
feet  have  ever  traversed  their  rocky,  craggy, 
eerie  heights.  The  valley  throughout  shows 
the  happy  results  of  irrigation,  as  the  sage 
brush  flats,  by  its  magical  means,  have  been 
metamorphosed  into  flourishing,  healthy-look 
ing  pastures  of  sweet,  waving  grasses. 


OVER  THE  DENVER  AND  RIO  GRANDE.        19 

After  another  treat  to  gray  sage  in  the  Jordan 
Narrows,  we  come  into  Lelii,  at  eleven  o'clock, 
a  pretty  little  place  within  shadow  of  the  range, 
on  Utah  Lake,  an  elongated  body  of  fresh 
water  to  the  south  of  the  valley.  The  Utah 
Sugar  Company  are  here  erecting  extensive 
buildings  in  the  interests  of  their  business. 
The  valley  resembles  that  of  Salt  Lake,  and 
the  towns  merge  into  each  other,  the  next  being 
American  Fork,  situated  on  Deer  Creek,  near 
Mount  Aspinwall,  whose  altitude  of  eleven 
thousand  and  eleven  feet  casts  a  lengthened 
shadow.  The  silver  ribbon,  Utah  Lake,  still 
stretches  its  thirty  miles  of  weary  length  along 
the  southern  line  of  the  pleasant  vale  within 
half  a  mile  of  our  train.  Pro  vo,  on  the  east  bank 
of  the  lake  is  noteworthy  for  its  fine  woolen 
mills;  the  buildings,  of  stone,  four  stories  high, 
attract  attention.  Here  we  alight  from  the 
cars  and  take  our  luncheon  at  the  hotel,  where 
we  have  an  excellent  meal,  resuming  our  places 
on  the  train  at  twelve  o'clock.  In  another  few 
minutes  we  pass  Springville,  thence  through 
a  fruit  and  garden  country  as  beautiful  and 
fertile  as  human  heart  could  desire,  the  effect  of 
industry  and  irrigation.  Utah  Lake  is  still  vis 
ible.  Spanish  Fork,  on  river  of  the  same  name, 
is  surrounded  by  orchards  and  ornamental 
trees,  with  thriving  vegetable  gardens  in  abun- 


20  SNAP  NOTES. 

dance.  Here  Martin  took  a  "special"  photo 
graph,  a  reversed  observatory,  minus  telescope 
lens,  and  even  window  glass.  Careering  on 
ward  we  enter  Spanish  Fork  Canon,  the  great 
gorge  of  the  Wasatch,  and  come  upon  the 
Castilla  Hot  Springs,  where  hundreds  of  peo 
ple  are  rusticating,  presenting  an  enchanting 
scene  as  they  saunter  forth  to  meet  our  train, 
gayly  singing  or  chatting,  decked  out  in  green 
garlands  and  bright  flowers.  Right  here  we 
are  overtaken  by  a  rainstorm,  that  pelts  down 
as  mercilessly  as  any  boasted  California  winter 
showers. 

Next  comes  in  sight  Red  Narrows,  a  strange 
construction  of  abrupt  declivities,  rocky,  yet 
covered  with  a  verdant  growth,  which  betimes 
disappears,  leaving  the  crags  as  bald  and  des 
titute  of  vegetation  as  the  worn  crest  of  Ben 
Nevis,  but  brilliant  in  color  of  crimson  chrome 
and  other  mineral  elements.  A  laugh  ing- 
stream  flows  at  the  base  of  the  cliffs,  skirted 
by  willow  and  shrubs,  fragrant  and  sweet.  We 
stop  here  but  a  few  minutes,  then  steam  on 
ward,  passing  Junction  a  few  hundred  yards 
further,  the  rain  continuing  until  we  get  through 
the  canon.  We  find  the  " Gates  Ajar"  of  Castle 
Rock,  and  enter.  The  Castle  rocks  are  of  lava 
precipitation,  as  though  thrown  up  by  volcanic 
eruption,  ;md  present  an  imposing  spectacle, 


OVER  THE  DENVER  AND  RIO  GRANDE.         21 

resembling  the  picturesque  beauty  of  Old  World 
ruined  castles  and  feudal  ramparts  in  their 
beetling  strength.  After  leaving  the  cliffy 
gorge  behind  us,  we  enter  upon  a  particularly 
lime  country,  where  kilns  formed  like  immense 
beehives  diversify  the  scenery  of  limerock  hills 
covered  with  undersized  pine  trees.  Especially 
interesting  are  the  seams  in  the  hillsides  of 
variegated  stone  that  project  in  tireless  rows, 
like  even  sets  of  teeth  or  columns  of  books. 
About  two  o'clock  we  halt  at  Clear  Creek  to 
water  the  engine.  Crossing  the  Divide,  near 
Summit  or  Soldiers'  Station,  elevation  seven 
thousand  four  hundred  and  sixty-five  feet,  we 
strike  the  snowsheds.  Pleasant  Valley  Junc 
tion,  the  next  station,  is  another  dreary  spot 
backed  by  barren  uplands  or  hills,  that  do  not 
even  afford  an  imposing  appearance.  Pleasant 
here  is  a  misnomer. 

"Castle  Gate,"  the  great  opening  to  the  Mor 
mon  country  from  the  East,  is  a  novel  and 
mysterious  creation  of  rock  into  castle-like 
battlements  of  Titanic  strength  and  magnifi 
cence,  and  what  powerful  "bulwarks  to  the 
nation"  they  would  prove  in  warfare,  since 
they  solemnly  withstand  without  injury  the 
continuously  attacking  elements!  Wonderful 
scenery,  marvelous  handicraft  of  a  powerful 
Creator ! 


WAP  NOTES. 

Price,  altitude  five    thousand  five   hundred 
and  forty-seven  feet,  is   pleasantly  located    in 
sight  of  the  fortlike  buttes  towards   the  west, 
where  the  strangely-formed  city,  abounding  in 
prodigious  buildings  of  nature's  own  construc 
tion,  looms  up.     We  are  here  informed  that 
we  shall  be  delayed  three  hours  on  account  of 
landslides  on  the  track  a  couple  of  miles  far 
ther.     Obliged  to  accept  the  situation  grace 
fully,  we  conclude   to   walk  around,  and   are 
soon  informed  that   we  may  be  forced  to  re 
main  all  night  and  take  dinner  in    this  less 
than  one-horse  town,  which  we  do  about  six 
o'clock,  in  a  small  Mormon  hotel.     We  were 
waited  upon  by  a  saucy  piece  of  humanity,  who 
belongs,  I  doubt  not,  to  the   prophet's  'creed ; 
and  if  ever  she  becomes  "sealed"  to  one  of  the 
elders,  the  elder  will  be  the  first  to  wish  the 
seal  broken.     The  dining  room  is  filled  with 
flies,  hungry  as  ourselves.     The  improvista  meal 
is  uninviting,  and   wholly  unappetitious,  but 
the    sound  fun    adduced    from    the    occasion 
repaid   for  the    need    of   strong    stomachs.     I 
presented  Maud  with  a  souvenir  spoon  of  the 
memorable  place,  to  be  had  at  but  one  Price, 
selected  one  for  myself  as  a  r/m>mo  forthe  meal' 
as  we  paid  triple  value  for  the  latter,  and  I 
conclude  that  Price  is  properly  named. 
Martin  is  amusing  himself  with  the  kodak, 


OVKR  THE  DENVER  AND  RIO  GRANDE.       23 

seeing     which    a    woman    emerges    from     a 
wretched-looking   dwelling   and  eagerly  asks, 
"  Takin'  picters?"    "  Our  artist,"  not  being  cer 
tain  of  success,  modestly  stammers  an  answer 
in  the  affirmative,  and  the  simple  creature  in 
stantly   starts   for   her  house,  immediately  re 
turning   with  an  infant,  which  she  wished  to 
have   photographed.     Martin  was  caught,  but 
gracefully  acceded  to  her  request,  and  kindly 
kodaked   the   little   Mormon,   whereupon   she 
anxiously  asked  if  she  might  see  the  "  likeness," 
and,  "  How  much  is  the  pay?"     He  explained 
the  impracticability  of  the  former,  and  gener 
ously  waived  all  claim  to    the   latter,   cheerfully 
assuring  the  poor  woman  that  when  he  succeeded 
in   perfecting  the    little    beauty's   picture   he 
would  send  it  to  her.     She  congratulated  him 
upon  the  pleasure  of  having  taken  the  virgin 
photo  of  the  small  stranger,  and,  in  her  delight, 
they  forgot  all  about  names,  addresses,  etc.,  so 
the    doting    mother   will    long   wait   for   the 
"picter"  of  her  darling,  that  can  never  come. 
After   eight  hours'  delay  they  told  us   the 
sand  drift  had  been  removed,  and  we  could  gladly 
continue  our  journey.     We  retired,  and  soon 
the   city   of    several   hundred    Mormons   and 
three  Gentiles  was  far  behind.     During  the  night 
we  traveled  rapidly,  and,  fortunately,  crossed 
the   pathless    tracks   of    the   Colorado   Desert 


24  SNAP  NOTES. 


without  knowing  it,  and  this,  Thursday  morn 
ing,  we  awake  to  find  ourselves  in  Colorado, 
August   20,  with  small  chances  for  breakfast- 
The  first  station  I  note  is  De  Beque,  a  small 
settlement  on  the  sand  flat  through  which  the 
railway   runs.     We  observe  the  river  flowing 
parallel  with  the  railroad,  a  large,  wildly  tur 
bulent,  muddy  stream.     The  scenery  is  tame 
and  uninteresting  hereabout,  except  for  pecul 
iar  bluffs  of  clay  studded  with  rock  that  rise 
on  either  side  in  somewhat  fantastic  formation. 
The  diminutive  hamlets  dotting  the  route  are 
unworthy   of    comment,  save  for  their  lonely 
locations.     Again,  alfalfa-clad  meadows  please 
the  eye  for  a  long  stretch,  to  Rifle,  a  railroad 
village  of  no  significance,  and  on  until  the  oft- 
repeated     scene    becomes     tiresome.      At   ten 
o'clock  we  stop  at  Newcastle  for  water.     It  is  a 
hamlet,  built  between  craggy  mountains,  steep 
and  rugged,  garnished  only  with  wild,  strag 
gling,  stunted  pines.     Bowling  along  through 
the  rocky  canon  we  come  upon  Glenwood  and 
(llenwood  Springs,  most  romantically  situated 
on  the  banks  of  the  royal  Grand,  a  dark,  strong, 
shallow   stream,  at  times  suggesting  the  Rus 
sian  River,  of  Sonoma  County,  California,  so 
familiar  to  us  all.     The  scenery  is  here  wild 
and    primeval,     at    times    weird,    but   always 
picturesque.      The   cliffs   rise   from   the   river 


OVER  THE  DENVER  AND  RIO  GRANDE.       25 

bed  hundreds  of  feet  heavenward,  are  covered 
with  loose  rock  kept  from  shifting  into  the 
river  by  dwarfed  pines  and  roots  of  other 
stunted  trees.  The  walls  of  bare  brown  rock  at 
times  surprise  and  fill  the  soul  with  awe  and 
wonder. 

The  Glen  wood  Springs  are  the  resort  for 
Eastern  people  who  spend  the  summer  here; 
particularly  is  it  a  Mecca  for  consumptives. 
Many  of  their  tents  and  cabins  are  scattered 
along  the  railroad  line,  suggesting  the  comfort 
here  found  by  these  elsewhere  hopeless  inva 
lids.  It  is  a  lovely,  lonely  spot.  The  hotel,  of 
brown  Colorado  stone,  is  a  grand  structure,  and 
the  pretty  lakelet  and  sparkling  fountain 
most  charmingly  cheery  and  inviting.  The 
country  hereabouts  is  indeed  mountainous, 
looking  tumbled  and  disordered.  Hastening 
onward,  we  pass  through  three  tunnels,  and 
now  the  rocky  walls  take  a  shelving  character, 
and  rise  in  strength  and  effect  until  one  ceases 
to  marvel  at  their  towering  heights,  and  we  real 
ize  at  last  that  we  are  indeed  in  the  heart  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains.  Here  I  am  particularly 
surprised  at  the  massive  grandeur  of  the 
gorge,  wholly  unlike  anything  yet  seen.  We 
emerge  into  a  broader  vale,  through  the  center, 
tracing  the  same  yellow  stream  coursing  on 
ward  through  the  canon.  The  near  mountains, 


26  SWAP  NOTES. 

in  their  red  cinnabar  skin,  have  a   magnetic 
attraction  for  me.     It  is  now  half  past  eleven, 
yet  we  have  not  broken  fast,  and  all  are  begin 
ning  to  sympathize  in  the  hunger  of  the  ill- 
fated  Donner  party  of  1846.     Having  spanned 
some   distance,  and    reached  more  sage  land, 
I  note  the  mountains  lowering  in  stature,  and 
soft,  fleecy  clouds  hang  in  the  sky,  screening  us 
from  the  garish  glare  of  piercing  sunlight.     A 
post  marked  "Eagle"  calls  my  attention,  and, 
glancing  out,  I  mark  the  green  bit  of  landscape 
lit  up   by   the   crystal    glitter   of  the   stream. 
Giving  our  thirsty  engine  a  drink,  we  cross  the 
river  and  leave  it  in  the  distance.     The  con 
ductor  informs  me  that  the  ravine — from  the 
above-mentioned   post— is  called  Eagle  River 
Valley.    The  views  along  the  banks  and  rock 
towers  are  similar  to  those  of  the  Rio  Grande. 
My  companions  and  self  are  on  the  platform 
enjoying  the  "sights"  that  are  seen  and  car 
ried   away  like   dissolving  views.      We  reach 
the  Rio  Grande  Hotel  at  one  o'clock  r.  M.,  and 
have  a  good,  comfortable  breakfast  and  lunch 
combined.     Girls   wait    upon   us,  in    a   polite 
manner,  and  are  neat  as  rosebuds.    Picturesque 
log  cabins  for  consumptives   dot  the  banks  of 
the  stream    and   railroad    line   again,  looking 
cozy  and  comfortable,  so  peculiarly  adapted  as 
buildings  to  this  wild  region.     The  mountains 


OVER  TUP:  DENVER  AND  RfO  GRANDE.       27 

to  their  dizzy  peaks  are  densely  clothed  with  fir 
and  pine,  scant  of  foliage,  and  showing  signs 
in  many  places  of  having  been  visited  at  a  re 
cent  date  by  fire.  Panda,  another  diminutive 
sign,  passes  us  on  to  a  small  tunnel,  which  wafts 
my  thoughts  back  to  San  Rafael.  A  quiet, 
charming  little  fertile  valley  runs  north  from 
this  spot,  which  is  lost  to  the  eye  in  the  dark 
some  depths  of  the  rugged  Rockies.  Wild 
flowers  cheer  the  wayside  with  their  bright 
presence,  and  are  like  the  low,  soft  voices  of 
cherished  friends  calling  us  down  from  con 
templation  of  those  tremendous  boulders  and 
bluffs  that  have  been  holding  our  hearts  in 
awe  and  admiration. 

Along  here  we  enter  a  tunnel  so  many  feet 
in  length  that  it  takes  four  minutes  to  pass 
through;  then  comes  Tennessee  Pass  tunnel, 
which  is  noted  by  Mrs.  Murphy  as  I  slept,  the 
drowsy  influence  having  possessed  me  for  the 
first  time.  I  awake  with  a  chill,  and,  noting  the 
altitude,  am  physically  aware  that  the  raw  air 
is  due  to  the  uiimelted  snow  on  the  sculptur 
esque  chain  of  the  Rockies  surrounding  us,  the 
first  snow  we  have  seen.  A  small  hamlet,  Bar- 
netts,  rapidly  followed  by  Riverside,  and  we 
glide  through  pleasant  plains,  with  the  Denver 
and  Rio  Grande  Narrow  Gauge  on  our  left. 
The  rocks  are  less  precipitous  and  imposing. 


28 


Before  us  spread  vast  fields  of  potatoes  and 
grain,  with  a  clear,  limpid  stream  flowing 
through  them.  In  one  field  hay  cutting  had 
begun.  The  country  now  resembles  California, 
since  crossing  the  range.  The  tortuous  Mar 
shall  Pass  is  entrancing  in  its  fear-inspiring 
grandeur.  At  5:30  p.  M.  we  are  brought  into 
Salida,  and  dinner  announced,  of  which  we 
partake  con  gusto.  "Monte  Christo  Hotel"  be 
longs  to  the  Rio  Grande  Company,  and  the 
meal  was  the  best  we  have  had  since  leaving 
California,  even  before  "the  buffet  went  on 
with  Malone,"  at  Ogden. 

Walking  around  for  a  few  minutes,  Maud 
and  I  swell  our  spoon  collection,  and  all  re- 
enter  the  train,  after  a  last  glance  at  the  Swiss 
style  and  setting  of  the  hotel  in  the  midst  of 
created  beauty.  We  hear  a  puff  and  a  screech 
and  away  we  go,  leaving  Salida,  on  the  Arkan 
sas,  beautifully  embedded  in  leafy  solitudes. 
My  girl  cousins  and  self  are  seated  upon  the 
platform  and  steps  to  view  the  country,  and  I 
note  Texas  Creek  as  one  of  the  stations.  We 
are  speeding,  they  say,  at  the  rate  of  twenty-five 
miles  per  hour,  and  almost  repeating  the  "scen 
ery  of  the  Rio  Grande  in  Texas  Creek  Canon. 
We  arrive  at  a  place  lettered  "SALOON,"  what 
ever  that  meam,  six  miles  from  the  Royal  Gorge 
of  the  Arkansas,  which  we  are  anxiously,  wait- 


OVER  THE  DENVER  AND  RIO  GRANDE.      29 

ing  to  behold.  The  sable  wings  of  night  are 
silently  folding,  yet  we  hope  to  view  the  gorge- 
like  storied  "  Melrose "  by  moonlight.  The 
river  is  on  our  right,  \\nld  and  wide,  seething, 
tumbling  over  broken  rocks,  with  fantastic 
shadows  lurking  o'er  its  troubled  bosom,  whilst 
it  roars  in  hollow  tones  to  the  echo  of  the  wind 
ing  abyssmal  chasm.  Canon  City,  a  prettily- 
set  place  of  several  thousand  inhabitants,  on 
the  Arkansas,  backed  by  mountains,  is  happily 
a  breathing-place  after  the  suppressed  emotion 
inspired  by  the  most  sublimely  grand  vista  in 
the  scenic  history  of  wonderful  Colorado.  The 
magnificent  bluffs  of  the  Royal  Gorge  loom  sky 
ward  three  thousand  feet,  some  of  them  over 
hanging  the  train,  rendering  the  wild  landscape 
charmingly  fascinating  in  its  awful  danger. 

Silence  falls  upon  the  trio;  awe  is  expressed 
in  every  feature;  and  I  lookup  with  a  sense  of 
devotion,  picturing  the  sky  reaching  down  to 
kiss  the  ambitious  brows  of  the  lofty  cliffs, 
leaving  breath  thereon  in  form  of  curling 
clouds.  These  almost  star-high  reaching  ram 
parts  of  God's  solid  masonry  climb  higher  and 
higher,  each  more  imposing  in  imperial  su 
premacy  than  the  last,  on  either  side  of  the 
passageway  through  which  the  river  and  our 
iron  horse  race. 

As  we,  in  tremorous  fear,  continue   to  gaze 


30  SNAP  NOTES. 

upward,  in  all  the  dignity  of  silence,  at  God's 
matchless  work,  the  night  clouds  lower,  but  an 
other  bend  in  the  high-walled  canon  shows  the 
moon  bursting  in  brilliant  effulgence  of  shim 
mering  silver  upon  the  sinuous  river,  over 
which  is  flung,  in  clearly  mirrored  outlines, 
branches  and  limbs  of  poplar,  willow,  and  cot- 
tonwood,  making  a  weird  picture  for  black  and 
white  effect. 

We  enter  the  drawing  room,  and  I  sit  by  the 
window  watching  all  the  moon  reveals.  I 
pleasurably  note  the  rippling,  dimpling,  purl 
ing  river  running  beside  us,  then  curving  away 
to  hide  amid  trees  and  shrubbery,  the  moon 
rays  glittering  upon  its  bosom,  and  casting 
smiling  beams  upon  rock  and  tree  and  stream 
alike,  yet  received  differently  by  each.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  C.,  of  Philadelphia,  are  spending  the 
evening  with  us,  in  our  drawing  room.  At 
nine  o'clock  p.  M.  we  draw  up  at  Pueblo,  an 
important  city,  on  the  Arkansas  River  also, 
receiving  its  name  from  the  fact  that  it  re 
mains  on  the  site  of  an  old  Mexican  pueblo, 
which  means  town.  The  tourist,  from  the 
train,  observes  for  the  most  prominent  feature 
an  elegant  hotel  of  stone,  built  at  enormous 
cost,  standing  at  the  depot,  presenting  a  sub 
stantial  appearance.  At  one  gable  end  is  a 
tall  tower,  embracing  a  clock.  The  street  cars 


OVER  THE  DENVER  AND  RlO  GRANDE.      31 

run  over  an  elevated  bridge  spanning  the  rail 
road  near  the  hotel  and  adding  to  its  business 
effect.  The  location  of  the  city,  in  the  heart 
of  such  a  rich  State,  with  so  many  natural 
advantages,  cannot  fail  to  speed  its  rapid  prog 
ress  towards  becoming  the  "  leading  manufac 
turing  center  between  the  Missouri  River  and 
Pacific  Coast."  Gliding  slowly  on,  the  dark, 
deep  waters  of  the  river  course  through  the 
city,  and  the  number  of  railroad  tracks  prove 
the  importance  of  Pueblo's  position  as  a  com 
mercial  mart.  Scudding  away  we  come  to 
Colorado  Springs,  a  healthful,  fashionable,  and 
.romantic  resort.  Our  Philadelphia  acquaint 
ances  leave  us  here,  and  I  peer  out  for  a  view  of 
the  surroundings,  but,  like  the  Garden  of  the 
Gods,  which  misty  half-light  prevented  a  view 
of,  now  this  lovely  spot  too  is  obscured,  yet 
I  succeed  in  catching  a  glimpse  of  a  Monte 
Christan  scene  on  the  mountain  ledge  west  of 
the  town,  where  electric  lights  play  fantastic 
pranks  with  stray  moonbeams.  They  tell  me 
it  is  Colorado  Springs  Hotel,  a  beautiful  and 
popular  resort,  It  is  now  11:30  o'clock  p.  M. 
We  are  heading  for  Denver,  and  are  about  to 
retire,  to  allow  weary  nature  her  just  repose. 


CHAPTER  III. 

FEOM    DENVER    TO    DETROIT. 

August  21,  Friday. 

T^TJE  were  called  early  this  morning,  as  our 

train  steamed  into  Denver,  and,  rising 
immediately,  dressed  quickly,  leaving  our  Pull 
man  sleeper,  "Estrella,"  with  fond  farewell  and 
mental  gratitude  for  its  very  comfortable  con 
veyance  of  us  so  far.  We  take  a  carriage  and 
drive  to  the  "Windsor,"  a  fine  house,  conducted 
on  the  English  plan,  have  breakfast,  and  come 
to  our  rooms  to  prepare  for  an  outing.  The 
morning  is  lovely,  balmy,  and  fresh,  the  air 
keen  and  invigorating.  We  boarded  the  cable 
car,  and  rode  the  length  of  Larimer  Street  and 
back,  took  transfers  to  Sixteenth  Street,  the 
most  superb  and  interesting  thoroughfare  in 
Denver,  walled  on  both  sides  with  immense 
stone  and  brick  business  buildings,  and  farther 
out  residences  of  wealthy  people  fill  the  sight, 
green  lawns  and  pretty  gardens  please,  and 
everything  presents  a  heavy,  massive  appear 
ance,  owing,  I  suppose,  to  the  stone,  to  which  J 

(32) 


FROM  DENVER  TO  DETROIT.  33 

am,  as  a  California!!,  unaccustomed,  it  began 
raining  soon  after  we  started  out,  and  has  con 
tinued  all  day.  Returning  for  our  lunch,  and 
to  write  some  letters  and  telegrams,  at  three 
o'clock  we  ordered  a  carriage  and  drove  all 
around  the  phenomenal  city,  of  over  one  hun 
dred  thousand  inhabitants,  thence  up  "Castle 
Hill,"  where  everything  to  be  shown  we  saw. 
The  residences  and  homes  of  merchants,  bank 
ers,  cattle  kings  and  mine  owners,  ex-governors, 
senators,  and  other  noted  individuals,  are  re 
markably  elegant.  The  house  of  Senator 
Tabor  is  a  superb  structure,  and  that  of  Mr. 
Porter,  the  greatest  cattle  king  of  Colorado,  is 
the  finest  in  the  city,  the  interior  decorations 
alone  having  cost  a  comfortable  fortune. '  The 
stone  State  house,  uncompleted,  is  being  erected, 
at  a  cost  of  $3,000,000,  and  promises  to  be  supe 
rior  to  any  public  building  in  the  great  West. 
In  driving  about  we  pass  by  the  St.  Mary's 
Academy  for  young  ladies,  conducted  by  the 
Sisters  of  Loretta,  a  large,  commodious  brick 
building.  We  make  some  purchases,  com 
memorative  of  our  visit,  and  return  to  the 
Windsor.  Dine  at  six,  and  at  half  past  eight 
take  the  train  for  Omaha,  en  route  for  Chicago. 
Mrs.  Murphy  secured  the  "Garda"  on  the 
vestibule  sleeper  of  the  Burlington  route,  and 
we  are  again  very  comfortably  situated,  and 
3 


34  SNAP  NOTES. 

happy  as  heretofore.  The  prime  adventure 
of  the  drawing  room  was  experienced  by  Mrs. 
Murphy,  but  her  own  diary  must  furnish  the 
details.  After  we  retired,  I  experienced  ex 
treme  cold,  and  remembered,  with  a  longing 
heart,  my  sealskin  coat,  over  a  thousand  miles 
away.  With  the  first  streaks  of  dawn  we  were 
aroused  for  breakfast,  and  partook  of  it  in  the 
"  diner,"  reaching  Holdridge  during  the  meal. 
We  are  now  traveling  over  Nebraska,  a  thrifty- 
looking  and  productive  country,  under  culti 
vation  as  far  as  the  eye  is  unforbidden  by  dis 
tance  to  go.  Axtell,  Heartwell,  and  other 
small,  unimportant  places  are  rapidly  viewed 
as  we  steam  through  a  fine  farming  and  graz 
ing  territory.  The  air  is  chilly,  but  the  day 
is  bright  and  sunny. 

Upon  Hearing  Hastings  I  inquire  about  the 
Platte  River.  A  gentleman  furnishes  the  infor 
mation  that  it  is  farther  south,  on  the  Atchison, 
Topeka,  and  Santa  Fe  route,  whereat  I  am  dis 
appointed,  being  deprived  of  going  over  part 
of  the  pioneers'  trail,  of  which  I  have  so  often 
heard  my  dear  ones  speak.  The  broad  fields 
are  teeming  "rich  with  golden  grain."  Farm 
houses,  environed  by  orchards  and  small  flower 
gardens  and  vegetable  plots,  dot  the  vast  ex 
panse,  relieving  the  eye  of  grain  and  corn 
views.  At  Fairmount  we  lunch  in  dining;  car 


FROM  DENVER  TO  DETROIT.  35 

"Lincoln,"   and  enjoy  both  the  occasion   and 
repast.     Nothing  noteworthy  in  sight. 

The  towns  resemble  California  rural  districts ; 
the  houses  are  all  built  of  wood,  like  ours,  and 
the  fencing  is  all  wire.  Stock  appear  in  limited 
number,  but  look  fat  and  well.  These  vast 
plains,  flat  as  a  slate,  replete  with  the  result  of 
farmers'  industry  and  pluck,  were  like  the 
Nevada  sweep  of  sage  land  when  our  sturdy 
pioneers  of  '44  wended  their  way  westward. 
The  majority  of  those  pioneers  have  passed  to 
their  last  resting  station,  after  having  sur 
mounted  the  wearisome  mountains  of  life's 
difficulties,  and  patiently  trod  the  monotonous 
plains  of  existence,  meekly  obedient  to  the 
will  of  our  Heavenly  Father,  and  gratefully 
responsive  when  his  voice  summoned  their 
tired  feet  to  rest  and  their  wandering  hearts 
home,  and  these  prairies  are  ateem  with  the 
result  of  work  and  wealth.  At  Lincoln,  Neb., 
we  halted  about  two  o'clock,  and  had  twenty- 
five  minutes  to  walk  around.  Cousin  Maud, 
as  usual,  made  a  raid  on  the  fruit  man,  and,  to 
our  surprise,  was  informed  that  miserable  pears 
were  four  for  twenty-five  cents,  whereas  in  Cal 
ifornia  we  would  fling  the  same  kind  of  fruit 
away.  Think  of  selling  a  half-spoiled  pear  for 
six  and  one-fourth  cents,  bananas  (half  black 
and  all  soft)  four  for  a  quarter,  and  five  peaches 


36  SNAP  NOTES. 

at  the  same  rate.  Verily,  one  must  travel  to 
learn  the  value  of  what  we  depreciate,  even 
scorn,  at  home.  If  this  is  not  the  "  corn-cracker 
State,"  it  ought  to  be,  we  see  such  profusions  of 
it  growing,  and  what  we  had  at  table  was  excel 
lent. 

Ashland  is  green  and  pretty;  the  pastures 
feed  fine  cattle,  and  the  vernal  spring  of  our 
peerless  State  is  not  more  beautiful  than  the 
country  I  here  behold.  We  cross  a  broad, 
sandy-bottomed  river,  which  just  above  us  is 
spanned  by  a  long  bridge,  and  its  low  banks  are 
self-edged  with  trees  and  undergrowth.  Upon 
consulting  my  map  I  find  that  it  is  the  oft- 
heard-of  Platte.  The  gentleman  who  blighted 
my  hopes  as  to  its  location  was  wrong.  Nu 
merous  herds  of  contented  cattle  are  scattered 
over  the  verdant  fiat,  presenting  a  happy  picture. 
The  country  of  the  Platte  is  indeed  "green 
fields  and  pastures  new."  How  my  heart 
yearns  for  the  impossible  privilege  of  convers 
ing  upon  these  scenes  with  my  late  father,  and 
comparing  notes  with  his  experiences!  The 
hay,  I  notice,  is  stacked  in  small  pineapple 
shape,  and  looks  odd  to  Californians. 

Our  matron  has  amused  herself  playing 
Solitaire  nearly  all  day  a  la  Mr.  Ballou,  of 
Mark  Twain's  sagebrush  days.  Cousin  Evie 
has  slept  most  of  the  time,  in  an  easy  posture, 


FROM  DENVER  TO  DETROIT.  37 

which  I  am  sure  she  enjoys.  Cousin  Maude 
talked,  read  "Lost  in  New  York,"  bought  fruit, 
and  performed  her  ablutions  about  every  half 
hour  in  hopes  of  transferring  as  little  real  estate 
as  possible  from  Nebraska. 

I  snapped  off  these  straggling  notes,  and 
watched  the  scenery.  At  half  past  three  in  the 
afternoon  we  heard  "Omaha!"  called,  and  1 
strained  my  eyes  to  obtain  a  full  view  of  the 
city,  and  Council  Bluffs,  with  its  world  of 
memories  to  the  pioneers.  Our  stay  of  half  an 
hour's  duration  was  employed  by  our  party  in 
walking  around,  viewing  the  surroundings  for 
mental  storing,  eating  popcorn — Maud's  treat,  of 
course — and  talking  over  our  experiences  thus 
far.  At  4: 15  o'clock  we  respond  to  the  order, 
"All  aboard!"  and  are  soon  steaming  rapidly 
along  the  banks  of  the  Missouri,  on  the  western 
border  of  the  State  of  Iowa.  The  vicinity  is 
the  scene  so  cherished  by  our  pioneers,  whence 
they  date  the  beginning  of  their  westward  pil 
grimage,  "  Crossing  the  Missouri  River  at 
Coun-cil  Bluffs  on  the  3d  of  May,  1844,"  etc., 
and  now  my  memory,  charged  with  long  recit 
als  of  their  vicissitudes,  is  overpowered  by  a 
sea  of  emotion,  and  I  cannot  restrain  the  tears 
that  well  up,  to  the  sweet  relief  of  my  heart. 
Have  just  passed  by  Plattsmouth  Station,  and 
a  few  minutes  brings  us  to  the  lengthy  bridge 


38  BtfAP  NOTES. 

across  the  Missouri's  broad  bosom,  which  bridge, 
I  am  told,  is  half  a  mile  long.  As  I  gaze  back 
upon  the  scene,  it  is  one  of  interest  and  beauty, 
the  valley  thickly  set  with  natural  trees  and 
trailing  brush,  the  waters  of  the  wide  river 
gleaming  through  them  like  flecks  of  silver,  in 
the  rich  flush  of  the  setting  sun.  The  meadow 
lands  are  flourishing  and  freshly  springlike, 
dotted  with  cattle,  lazy  and  fat.  Pacific  Junc 
tion  is  the  first  station  that  delays  us  a  length 
of  time.  It  is  here  the  trains  for  the  Pacific 
meet,  from  Missouri  and  the  East  The  next 
cozy  hamlet  is  Glenwood,  a  sweet  little  place, 
full  of  romantic  situations. 

Creston,  a  larger  town,  was  gained  about 
8:30  p.  M.,  and  is  brightly  attractive  at  night  in 
the  garish  glare  of  gas  and  electric  lights.  We 
retire,  weary  indeed,  and,  after  broken  snatches 
of  sleep,  unrefreshing,  to  say  the  least,  are 
aroused  at  7  o'clock  A.  M.,  Sunday,  August  23, 
to  dress  for  breakfast,  in  the  expectation  of 
reaching  Chicago  on  time.  The  suburbs  of  the 
metropolis,  as  we  approach,  are  alluring  in  their 
peace-filled  beauty  and  restfulness,  but  I  am  eager 
to  enter  "the  Windy  City,"  and  can  only  glance 
at  these  introductory  charms  to  it.  At  8  o'clock 
we  reach  the  depot,  secure  a  conveyance,  and 
are  rattled  through  the  sloppy  streets  to  the 
"Auditorium,"  an  elegant  hotel  overlooking 


FROM  DENY  EH  TO  DETROIT,  39 

Lake  Michigan.  The  building  is  ten  stories 
high,  with  a  tower  ten  tiers  higher,  from  which 
a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  whole  city  may  be 
obtained.  The  view  from  our  window,  in  the 
seventh  story,  is  truly  interesting.  The  great 
blue  lake  stretches  its  heaving  bosom  of  sixty 
miles  before  my  unaccustomed  vision,  and  its 
majestic  length  of  three  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  sweeps  beyond  sight.  As  I  stand  by  the 
window,  viewing  with  curiosity  and  wonder  the 
largest  lake  it  has  been  my  fortune  to  see,  I  note 
the  steamboats  plying  to  and  fro  over  its  rippling 
surface,  landing  passengers  almost  "within  a 
stone's  throw"  of  our  location,  then  the  ten 
railroad  tracks  parallel  with  the  sweep  of  green 
swards  seamed  with  paths,  and  next  the  clean, 
broad,  smooth  boulevard  called  Michigan  Av 
enue. 

After  refreshing  our  appearances,  a  most 
necessary  and  satisfactory  obligation,  we  de 
scend  to  our  dinner  in  the  French  restaurant, 
^on  the  first  floor,  the  hotel  being  one  of  those 
conducted  on  the  European  plan.  After  din 
ner,  procuring  a  carriage  with  "a  character" 
for  a  coachman,  we  drive  to  the  parks,  World's 
Fair  grounds,  via  the  cleanly  boulevard,  which 
our  driver  innocently  styles  "the  bully-yard." 
Like  Denver's  soft  treat,  it  began  raining  soon 
after  we  started  out  and  has  kopt  continually 


40  SXAI*  NOTES. 

pouring;  twice  we  sought  shelter  in  stables 
awaiting  the  abatement  of  the  rainstorm.  The 
park  has  some  excellent  specimens  of  landscape 
gardening,  particularly  noticeable  a  "  World's 
Fair  Globe"  surmounting  a  green  knoll,  the 
water  being  represented  in  Echeverias  Metalica 
and  the  continents  by  the  red  Coleus.  Probably 
the  novel  arrangement,  measuring  several  feet 
in  diameter,  has  been  constructed  of  wire  filled 
in  with  earth,  the  plants  sown  on  the  outside, 
the  whole  being  ingeniously  designed.  Re 
turning  we  seek  the  seclusion  which  our 
boudoirs  grant,  and  soon  retire  to  sleep  soundly. 

Monday,  August  24. 

After  our  matin  meal,  Martin,  Maud,  and 
myself  go  out  shopping,  and  to  see  the  city 
that  pork  and  pluck  have  made  famous.  We 
see  none  of  the  former.  Mrs.  Murphy  is  quite 
ill,  so  we  do  not  remain  away  longer  than  to  pur 
chase  a  few  souvenirs,  beautiful  spoons  being 
our  most  valuable  collection.  During  the  after 
noon  I  remain  with  Mrs.  M.,  while  my  cousins 
go  out  and  around,  and  in  the  evening  to  the 
theater.  I  decline  attending  amusements  with 
them  during  my  season  of  wearing  mourning, 
and  retire  at  midnight  to  enjoy  balmy  sleep. 

Tuesday,  August  25. 
Rose  this    morning  at  seven  o'clock,  break- 


FROM  DENVER  TO  DETROIT.  41 

fasted  at  ten,  thereafter  packed  our  trunks  for 
Boston.  I  wrote  letters  to  some  friends  in  New 
England,  acquainting  them  with  the  likeli 
hood  of  my  presence  in  the  vicinity  of  their 
abiding  places.  Mrs.  Murphy  went  with  me  to 
Father  D.  J.  Riordan's  residence,  whose  address 
had  been  kindly  furnished  me  by  His  Grace 
Archbishop  Riordan  prior  to  my  departure 
from  California. 

With  a  stubborn  coachman  and  limited  time 
we  are  deprived  of  seeing  other  friends  and  the 
pleasure  of  visiting  the  cathedral  built  by  the 
late  Bishop  Thomas  Foley,  which  I  was  desir 
ous  of  inspecting.  We  return  to  dine  at  the 
hotel  and  prepare  for  the  train,  which  leaves  at 
3:10  i».  M.,  and  we  are  "on  time"  at  the  busy 
depot,  of  which  wre  take  farewell  without  re 
gret.  Now,  at  3:30  o'clock,  we  are  flying  on  the 
wings  of  steam  along  the  shore  of  the  beautiful 
blue  lake,  leaving  the  tall  buildings  of  the 
phoenix-like  city  in  the  distance,  getting 
glimpses  of  small  towns  along  the  route,  but 
moving  too  rapidly  to  be  able  to  read  the 
names  on  the  stations.  At  5: 10  we  rush  into 
Michigan  City,  in  the  "Hoosier"  State,  Indiana. 
Have  remarked  the  forests  of  small  trees  grow 
ing  thickly,  and  meadow  lands  whence  timber 
has  been  removed  look  rich  and  thrifty  under 
cultivation,  but,  like  similar  spots  in  California 


42  SNAP  NOTES. 

have   many  tree   stumps  ungrubbed   in  their 
midst. 

Michigan  City  is  a  large,  enterprising  place, 
with  a  generous  supply  of  natural  trees  and 
tall  church  spires.  I  recognize  the  Catholic 
edifice,  with  its  gilded  cross  surmounting  the 
tower.  We  now  occupy  the  drawing  rooms  of 
the  "Tidal  Wave"  coach,  of  Michigan  Central. 
The  almost  dense  forests  of  young  growth  ob 
scure  the  view  on  either  side  of  the  railroad, 
and  the  country,  Michigan,  we  are  traversing 
is  full  of  health -giving  properties  and  extensive 
agricultural  advantages.  Timber  resembling 
our  lofty  redwood  attracts  my  fancy,  but  I  be 
lieve  it  is  a  species  of  fir.  A  little  station  is 
marked  A  very  s,  in  the  heart  of  enviable  sur 
roundings  as  far  as  created  beauty  goes,  thence 
another  forest,  followed  by  homes  of  farmers 
snug  in  sweet  content,  with  orchards  fruit  laden 
and  graceful  corn  fields.  We  have  just  been 
regaled  by  sight  of  a  lovely,  grassy-edged  lake, 
whose  breast  palpitates  beneath  a  fragrant  load 
of  water  lilies,  lazy  and  lolling  as  those  of  the 
Nile,  but  we  are  swept  onward  ere  the  vision  is 
fully  satisfied.  At  5:45  we  "slow  up"  at  Niles, 
on  the  banks  of  the  St.  Josephs  River,  a  ro 
mantic  looking  stream,  and  are  delayed  a  few 
minutes.  A  boy  opens  our  drawing  room  un 
ceremoniously,  and  presents  each  lady  with  an 


FROM  DENVER  TO  DETROIT.  43 

exquisite  little  bouquet,  "Compliments  of  Chief 
Engineer's  Office,  Niagara  Falls  Route,"  of 
Michigan  Central. 

WelHaunched  on  the  "Tidal  Wave,"  skim 
ming  over  the  southern  portion  of  the  State,  I 
mark  verdurous  forest  and  grove  and  silvery 
streams  peeping  through  the  bushes,  then  "run 
ning  away,"  as  though  affrighted  by  the  snort 
of  the  iron  steed,  as  he  madly  dashes  past.  Fo- 
liaged  trees  again  over  numberless  acres. 
Verily  Michigan  is  a  richly  wooded  State. 
Having  coursed  over  a  fine  country,  we  reach 
Ostemo  at  6:55,  a  small  place  of  no  particular 
distinction,  and,  darkness  suddenly  wafting 
downwards,  our  gas  is  lit,  and  we  shall  soon— 
—pardon  me  for  using  a  nautical  phrase— 
"turn  in." 

About  seven  o'clock  we  enter  Kalamazoo,  a 
city  I  have  often  heard  of.  A  church  is  promi 
nent  near  the  railroad  track.  Its  two  very 
lofty  spires,  with  plain  Roman  crosses,  show 
up  conspicuously  as  we  approach.  The  city  is 
large  and  flourishing,  with  an  outlook  of  as 
sured  prosperity.  The  river  and  its  bridge  are 
valuable  adjuncts  to  its  features.  Continuing 
onward  we  sight  Jackson,  another  large,  im 
portant  city,  and  then  Ann  Arbor,  patronized 
by  Californians  for  the  college  of  law  it  main 
tains.  Nearing  Detroit,  our  higgligehad  to  be 


44  SNAP  NOTES. 

checked  or  marked  before  crossing  the  river 
into  Ontario,  Canada,  across  which  we  must 
run  to  Niagara.  At  ten  o'clock  p.  M.  we  steam 
away  from  Ypsilanti  to  the  Detroit.  We  reach 
Detroit  City  late,  and  I  am  suggesting  to  Mrs. 
Murphy  to  "stop  off"  here  for  the  night  and 
obtain  a  view  of  the  city,  call  upon  Bishop 
John  Foley,  and  resume  our  journey  to-morrow 
evening,  but  she  thinks  otherwise,  so  we  retire 
to  rest,  which  we  all  need,  and  the  confusion 
and  noise  crossing  the  river  is  anything  but 
conducive  to  peaceful  slumber. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  VISIT  TO  NIAGARA. 

August  £6,  Wednesday. 

A  T  seven  o'clock  we  are  called  up  at  Falls 
-£*-  View  to  see  Niagara.  The  vast  sweep 
of  waters  to  the  falls  is  to  me  more  surprising 
than  the  falls  themselves,  inasmuch  as  I  had 
never  seen  pictures  of  them  from  the  point 
whence  we  now  inspect  them,  and  they  do  not 
impress  me  with  their  enormity.  In  a  few 
minutes  we  cross  the  great  Cantilever  Bridge, 
nine  hundred  and  ten  feet  long,  and  are  at 
Niagara,  We  register  at  the  Cataract  House 
for  the  day,  taking  an  early  breakfast,  then 
secure  a  three-seated  conveyance,  and  ride  to 
the  different  points  of  interest.  Driving  over 
a  common  rough  country  road  of  some  dis 
tance,  the  first  scene  visited  is  Whirlpool  Rapids, 
where  we  pause,  overawed  at  the  grand  spec 
tacle,  the  fierce,  wild,  angry -looking  waters 
rushing  madly  downwards,  throwing  up  foam 
in  feathery  flecks  as  it  dashes  over  the  crags 
that  form  the  rude  bed  of  the  river.  The  force 

(45) 


46  SNAP  NOTES. 

of  the  water  flow  here  is  tremendous,  yet  it  must 
be  borne  in  mind  that  the  supply,  from  four 
great  lakes,  compressed  in  the  width  of  three 
hundred  feet,  rushes  frantically  onward  at  the 
rate,  I  believe,  of  twenty-seven  miles  an  hour. 
We  had  our  photographs  taken  at  this  place. 
I  ordered  mine  to  be  sent  home,  that  the  loved 
ones  may  see  how  I  am  enjoying  the,  to  me, 
new  wonders  of  God's  footstool.  Ascending 
the  bank  by  the  ingeniously-constructed  ele 
vator,  we  purchase  some  souvenirs,  arraquettes, 
etc.,  etc.,  and  drive  to  the  great  whirlpool,  which 
is  four  hundred  feet  deep,  and  a  marvel  in 
itself.  The  swirling  green  waters  make  one 
dizzy  to  watch  and  wonder  at.  It  was  here 
that  Captain  Webb  was  last  seen  alive,  and  it 
is  here  that  so  many  have  attempted  the  dan 
gerous  feat  of  swimming  across.  Six  men  and 
one  woman  have  succeeded,  wearing  cork 
jackets,  and  one  in  a  lifeboat,  the  daring  female 
performing  the  feat  in  a  barrel.  The  day  is 
beautiful,  sunny,  and  warm — in  truth,  the 
brightest  we  have  had  since  leaving  Nevada. 
AVandering  around  I  stray  toward  the  stairway 
above  the  great  whirlpool,  and  the  outlet,  and 
count  sixteen  hundred  and  sixteen  steps,  weari 
some  to  look  at,  and  a  task  of  importance  to 
double.  The  view  from  a  pathway  on  the  hill 
side,  suggesting  fearful  power,  is  occasion  for 


A    VISIT  TO  NIAGARA.  47 

reflection  on  my  o\vii  nothingness,  and  from 
this  sublime  scene  my  thoughts  go  back  to 
history,  to  the  humble  Jesuit  missionary  of  the 
Indians,  Fr.  Hennepin,  whose  features  were 
the  first  belonging  to  white  man  reflected  in 
these  turbulent  waters,  as  far  back  as  1678. 

Entering  another  bazaar  to  inspect  curios, 
of  which  there  is  an  infinity,  we  select  a  few, 
and,  taking  our  carriage  again,  return  to  the 
Cataract  Hotel,  two  miles  distant,  for  our  lunch. 
The  property  in  the  vicinity  of  the  whirlpool, 
on  the  American  side,  belongs  to  the  De  Veaux 
Military  Academy,  which  solemn-looking  stone 
structure,  covered  with  ivy,  we  pass  on  our  way 
from  the  bazaar.  Niagara  City  boasts  a  popu 
lation  of  seven  thousand,  but  I  have  remarked 
very  few  fine-looking  homes,  and  the  houses 
are  mostly  scattering  and  poor.  The  only  im 
pressions,  of  course,  are  effected  by  the  river 
and  falls.  The  city,  from  my  humble  idea  of 
progress,  is  far  behind  the  age,  considering 
that  trains  enter  it  every  half  hour,  bearing 
excursionists  by  the  hundred,  who  fill  the 
streets,  marching  along  with  lunch  baskets, 
but  are  lost  amid  the  great  wonders,  to  reap 
pear  when  their  trains  return.  The  beauti 
fully  located  city  grows  slowly. 

Finding  that  it  is  only  eleven  o'clock,  we  con 
clude  to  cross  the  new  suspension  bridge  (one 


48  SNAP  NOTES. 

thousand  two  hundred  and  sixty-eight  feet  long), 
"designed  for  foot  passengers  and  carriages,"  and 
enter  Canada,  to  view  magnificent  Niagara  from 
the  heights  above  Victoria  Park.  Reaching  the 
Canadian  shore,  we  pass  the  "Clifton  House,"  a 
beautiful  hotel,  with  broad  porches  garnished 
with  vines,  palms,  and  potted  plants,  and  drive 
through  Queen  Victoria's  Park,  a  fine  lawn- 
covered  sunny  slope,  whence  we  view  in  silence 
the  great  world  wonder  of  American  scenery. 
The  day  is  lovely  indeed,  and  everything  con 
ducive  to  the  fullest  enjoyment  of  the  mar 
velous  grandeur  of  the  scene.  We  spin  along 
the  ridge  to  "Clark's  Burning  Springs,"  a  mys 
tery  in  themselves. 

Entering  the  observatory  building,  we  are 
conducted  to  a  semi-dark  room.  From  the 
center  of  the  floor  projects  a  pipe  about  two 
and  a  half  feet  high,  connected  with  the  Burn 
ing  Spring  below,  and  to  the  top  of  this  pipe 
the  attendant  touched  a  lighting  match,  when 
the  gas  instantly  burst  into  a  soft  blaze,  and 
to  it  he  applied  a  piece  of  newspaper,  which 
ignited,  yet  the  heat  was  not  so  intense  that 
the  hand  could  not  be  passed  rapidly  through 
it  without  burning.  The  keeper  gave  us  each 
a  drink  of  the  water  from  the  mineral  spring 
connected  with  it.  Upon  asking  for  a  result 
of  the  analysis,  we  were  informed  that  it  con- 


A    VISIT  TO  NIAGARA.  40 

tains  principally  sulphur,  iron,  and  magnesia, 
and  my  own  imagination  supplied  stale  eggs. 
The  burning  springs  were  discovered  over  a 
century  ago,  by  Indians  building  a  camp  fire, 
and  it  is  said  that  they  were  quickly  dispersed 
by  fright  when  the  gas  ignited  and  remained 
burning,  they  deeming  the  place  haunted  by 
evil  spirits.  For  a  great  number  of  years  the 
story  was  known  only  by  tradition,  and  the 
spot  lost  sight  of,  until  located  by  the  present 
managers.  Ascending  to  the  observatory  sur 
mounting  the  building,  I  looked  long  and 
interestedly  at  the  Niagara  lake  or  river  as  it 
appears  sullenly  in  the  distance  above  the  falls, 
the  water  flowing  smooth  and  glossy  in  the 
shining  sunlight,  but  becoming  rough  and 
foamy  as  it  approaches  the  vast  chasm,  pre 
cipitating  itself  one  hundred  and  sixty-four 
feet,  making  its  fall  resound  to  a  great  distance. 
The  Iroquois  language  is  indeed  concise,  for 
its  simple  word  "Niagara"  expresses  "mighty, 
wonderful,  thundering  water."  My  attention, 
riveted  in  devout  admiration  and  amazement, 
cannot  be  directed  elsewhere.  Turn  as  I  may, 
the  eye  of  interest  reverts  to  the  fleecy,  misty, 
soft,  eternal  flow  of  the  magnificent  waters. 
Up  on  the  Ontario  commons  stands  an  impos 
ing  gray  stone  convent,  but  I  could  not  learn 
what  order  of  nuns  conducts  it. 

4 


.~>0  SNAP  NOTES. 

Ere  descending  from  the  observatory  I  kiss 
my  hand  to  Canada,  because  it  held  the  early 
married  lives  of  my  dear  parents,  and,  next  to 
California,  had  sweetest  memories  and  most 
interest  for  them.  As  \ve  recross  the  bridge, 
the  little  steamer  Maid  of  the  Mist  is  making 
her  pleasure  trips  between  the  American  and 
Canadian  landings,  and,  under  the  spray  and 
rainbow  tinting,  looks  phantom-like  and  lovely. 
Prospect  Park,  on  American  side,  is  smaller  than 
Victoria,  but  wooded  and  beautiful.  On  our 
way  back  to  the  hotel  is  shown  the  vessel  in 
which  the  Amazon  made  the  swim  of  the  whirl 
pool.  It  is  a  long  barrel,  smaller  at  one  end, 
with  opening  in  the  side.  Reaching  the  "Cata 
ract"  we  lunch  at  noon,  after  which  Mrs. 
Murphy  retires  to  her  room,  and  we,  the  rest 
of  the  sight-seers,  walk  up  to  the  "Cave  of  the 
Winds."  I  am  troubled  with  a  cold,  and  can 
not  descend,  but  the  others  do,  and  present  a 
most  comical  appearance  "rigged  out"  in  the 
oil  clothing  furnished  by  the  keepers.  Those 
desirous  of  making  the  descent,  upon  payment 
of  twenty-five  cents  each  are  conducted  to  a 
dressing  room,  where  every  article  of  clothing 
is  exchanged  for  those  of  oil.  A  tin  box  is 
also  furnished,  into  which  are  placed  the  coin, 
jewelry,  and  other  valuables,  and  its  num 
bered  key  is  hung  around  the  neck  of  the 


A    VISIT  TO  NIAGARA.  51 

owner,  while  the  box  is  stored  in  the  safe  of 
the  office.  Equipped  for  the  dangerous  ex 
periment,  the  comical  brigade  present  them 
selves  at  the  head  of  the  slippery  steps,  and  are 
immediately  taken  in  charge  by  guides,  who 
convey  them  to  the  cave  under  the  Great  Fall. 
The  sensation  was  certainly  novel.  The  super 
intendent  awarded  them  certificates  for  having 
succeeded  in  making  the  thrilling  plunge  to 
the  cave. 

During  their  stay  below  I  wandered  around 
alone,  visiting  Luna  Island  and  other  pretty 
points  of  richly  wooded  grounds,  strolled  along 
the  path  in  the  woods,  where  numberless  tour 
ists  were  enjoying  the  day,  back  to  the  foot 
bridge  across  the  cataracts  to  the  town,  through 
which  I  leisurely  sauntered,  making  a  few  pur 
chases,  thence  to  the  hotel,  and,  gaining  our 
boudoir,  enjoyed  a  rest  until  nearly  train-time. 
Summoning  a  servant,  Mrs.  Murphy  ordered  a 
carriage  for  our  conveyance  to  the  depot,  which 
we  reached  at  5:30  o'clock  p.  M.,  where  we  took 
the  New  York  Central  train  for  Buffalo,  but, 
unfortunately,  boarded  a  local,  and  came  near 
missing  it,  bag  and  baggage.  Our  through 
tickets  are  not  recognized  on  the  local,  and  we 
are  obliged  to  purchase  tickets  to  Buffalo.  The 
car  is  very  much  crowded,  and  the  accommo 
dations  inferior.  From  Niagara  to  Lockport 


52  SNAP  NOTES. 

is  a  sea  of  orchards  as  we  run  across  the  State 
of  New  York. 

I  take  particular  notice  of  the  country  on  ac 
count  of  its  distance  from  California,  until  we 
swing  into  Buffalo.  Upon  reaching  the  city  of 
Mr.  Cleveland's  early  political  triumphs  our 
party  is  thrown  into  dire  confusion  by  the  con 
ductor's  order  that  "  all  passengers  must  leave 
the  train;  it  goes  no  further."  Picture  our  dis 
may,  and  you  will  pardon  our  sympathy  with 
Mark  Twain's  party  lost  in  the  snow,  whose 
deathbed  resolutions  went  for  nought,  for  here 
we  are,  among  strangers,  not  destined  for  Buf 
falo,  but  Boston.  We  look  at  each  other  re 
proachfully.  Who  is  to  blame?  Martin  is  treated 
to  a  hasty  "round  up"  by  his  mother  for  not 
having  obtained  the  required  information  re 
specting  the  trains.  Evie  is  diligently  plying 
the  question,  "Where  am  I  going?  "  to  which 
repeated  query  the  conductor  impatiently  re 
plies,  "  How  do  I  know?  "  Mrs.  M.  is  collecting 
valises,  hand  bags,  etc.,  and  trying  to  convey 
them  all  at  once  from  the  car.  In  the  crowd 
Maud  has  disappeared,  and  I  am  looking  on, 
waiting  for  the  reunion,  for  verily  I  say  unto 
you,  the  California  party  has  stampeded.  Fi 
nally,  with  the  dispersing  of  the  throng  of  pas 
sengers,  Maud  is  recovered,  Mrs.  Murphy  has 
been  relieved  of  the  "grip  sacks-,"  Evie  has  dis- 


A    VISIT  TO  NIAGARA.  53 

covered  her  latitude,  for  Martin  has  adjusted  mat 
ters  by  having  our  tickets  examined,  resulting  in 
the  knowledge  gained  that  the  through  train 
will  arrive  in  a  few  minutes,  so  our  spirits  are 
again  serene.  I  marvel  at  the  fine  city,  having 
often  heard  my  father  speak  of  Buffalo  as  little 
more  than  a  trading  post  in  the  days  of  the 
Murphy  exodus  from  Canada.  It  now  stretches 
along  the  Niagara  River  and  is  a  great,  popu 
lous  city,  of  much  importance  and  wealth.  I 
remark  the  cathedral,  I  suppose,  with  three 
domes  or  towers  topped  with  crosses,  on  our 
left.  We  take  the  sleeper  of  the  Wagner  vesti 
bule,  and  are  now,  at  7  o'clock,  slowly  leaving 
Buffalo  in  the  background,  and  again  the  sim 
ple  charms  of  country  life  and  well-tilled  lands 
greet  the  vision. 

After  leaving  Buffalo  I  eagerly  caught  a 
hurried  glimpse  of  the  placid  waters  of  Lake 
Erie,  to  the  southeast  of  us,  and  its  little  steam 
ers  plying  their  calling  over  its  shining  tide. 
I  revive  my  earliest  recollections  of  history, 
and  recall  Perry's  victory  with  a  feeling  of 
rapture.  How  much  more  would  we  all  enjoy 
this  trip  were  any  one  of  us  posted  on  the  names 
and  histories  of  the  places  we  see.  Perhaps  the 
scenes  of  cruel  battles  during  our  lamentable 
rebellion  are  skipped  by  as  unnoticed  as  a 
stray  house  or  a  watering  tank,  whereas  devout 


54  SNAP  NOTES. 

interest  in  our  land  would  attract  attention  to 
the  spot  were  it  known,  and  a  pious  thought 
and  prayer  might  he  entertained  for  the  mem 
ory  of  those  who  wore  so  bravely  the  "  blue  and 
the  gray."  The  country  is  so  freshly  green. 
When  do  they  have  summer,  dry  and  parched, 
in  the  East?  In  the  gloaming  we  enter  Bata- 
via,  011  a  river  running  southward.  It  is  pret 
tily  located,  and  a  neat  parterre,  artistically  de 
signed,  marks  the  station,  the  word  "  Batavi a " 
being  imbedded  in  the  lawn  in  white  stone, 
which  is  unique  and  pretty.  Batavia  is  a  pre 
tentious-looking  town,  with  a  well-filled  ceme 
tery,  bordering  on  the  railroad  line.  About 
half  past  eight  o'clock  we  "pull  in  "  to  Rochester 
for  supper,  where  my  companions  alight,  but 
I  feel  too  fatigued  and  prefer  resting  to  eating. 
Glancing  out  I  regret  that  darkness  intervenes 
and  prevents  observation  of  a  city  1  would  like 
to  see.  Retired  at  eleven  o'clock  very  travel 
tired.  We  occupied  berths  on  the  train  in  the 
general  passenger  car  for  the  first  time,  and 
found  it  very  inconvenient,  not  being  accus 
tomed  to  it.  The  upper  berth  is  particularly 
low  on  these  Boston  and  Albany  cars,  hence 
unpleasant  for  those  in  the  lower  couches.  It 
would  have  been  comfortable  enough,  however, 
had  we  not  known  "better  days"  in  the  draw 
ing  rooms  of  the  Pullman  and  other  wheeled 
palaces. 


A    VISIT  TO  NIAGARA.  55 

n/,  Avcpuxt  27. 

I  awoke  early,  and,  peeping  out,  as  we  stopped 
I  read  "  Pittsfield,"  and  knew  I  was  in  Massa 
chusetts.  Passing  onward  readied  Westfield, 
thence  Springfield,  where  we  had  our  breakfast, 
warm  and  palatably  served.  Springfield  is  a 
beautiful  city  on  the  Connecticut  River,  which 
runs  directly  through  it.  After  ten  minutes' 
delay  for  the  meal  we  are  again  swiftly  spinning 
by  small  stations,  hamlets,  and  important  cities 
on  our  course  to  Boston.  Massachusetts  looks 
much  like  verduous  Iowa  and  Michigan,  but 
.s'o  rocky f  The  gray  stone  croppings  recall 
places  in  California  through  northern  Sonoma. 
The  grass  is  emerald  in  hue,  but  the  soil  is  not 
at  all  rich  looking;  the  tree  foliage  and  shrub 
bery  are  unfamiliar  to  me,  yet  pretty.  I  ex 
pected  to  see  every  house  east  of  the  Rockies 
built  of  stone  or  brick,  and  only  found  them  to 
great  extent  in  Denver  as  yet,  also  Chicago, 
which  city  is  never  a  laggard  in  the  march  of 
improvement  and  progress. 

We  have  just  gained,  with  a  short  stop, 
Palmer,  a  conspicuous  and  not  unimportant  city. 
A  mile  or  two  further  east,  as  I  glance  to  our 
right,  or  south  of  the  train,  I  mentally  photo 
graph  a  valley  that  is  decidedly  Californian  in 
character,  particularly  Marin  County,  and,  as 
1  am  so  distant  from  the  golden  slope,  I  may 


56  SNAP  KOTES. 

be  pardoned  for  loving  the  State  which  repro 
duces  some  of  the  well-known  features  of  my 
own.  AVest  Warden  is  beautifully  set  between 
laughing  streams  that  break  and  ripple  over 
rocks,  chattering  in  innocent  noise  like  a  bevy 
of  merry  children  as  they  run.  It  has  been 
raining  since  we  left  Springfield.  No  wonder 
that  the  grass  is  green  and  soft,  under  so  much 
moisture.  We  glide  by  Brookfield  with  only 
time  to  glance  at  it  and  admire  its  velvety 
covering  of  beauteous  lawns  and  shining  rills 
and  lakelets,  many  of  them  surfaced  with 
blooming  white  water  lilies.  There  are  many 
people  on  the  train  bound  for  Boston  who 
seem  to  have  been  somewrhere  West.  Small 
stations,  such  as  South  Spencer,  are  seen  and 
gone,  barely  giving  time  to  snatch  the  name 
on  memory's  tablet.  I  can  understand  how 
easily  the  waters  of  these  many  streams  were 
utilized  for  millwork  before  steam  came  into 
common  use.  Many  mill  dams  suggest  it. 
They  are  very  picturesque.  The  only  near 
hills  I  have  seen  are  the  Berkshire,  in  tins 
State,  and  they  resemble  our  own.  Rochdale, 
on  a  pretty  creek  or,  maybe,  river,  is  a  small 
town  with  few  houses.  The  stone  fences  are 
like  those  in  Sonoma,  on  the  road  to  Napa. 

About   nine  o'clock  we   reach  Worcester,  a 
city  of  considerable  importance,  with  large  fac- 


A    VISIT  TO  NIAGARA.  57 

tory  interests  and  business  buildings.  The 
depot  is  an  extensive  affair,  and  the  large  two- 
steepled  Catholic  Church  of  the  Jesuits,  on  the 
hill,  is  a  prominent  ornament  to  the  town,  and 
handsome  monument  to  the  energy  and  zeal 
of  the  order.  Worcester  is  the  birthplace  of 
our  noble  old  American  historian,  Bancroft,  I 
turn  my  attention  back  to  a  knoll  surrounded 
by  greenswards  and  scattering  ornamental  trees, 
upon  which  stands  a  long  gray  stone  building, 
resembling  our  Napa  Insane  Asylum.  It  is 
handsomely  located,  and  an  imposing  struc 
ture.* 

*I  have  since  been  told  that  it  T»  the  Worcester  In 
sane  Asvlum. 


CHAPTER    Y. 
THE   (5JTY   OF  BOSTON. 

are  nearing  Boston,  the  baggage  check- 
man  having  arrived  on  the  scene  to  re 
lieve  us  of  the  responsibility  of  our  baggage.  I 
learn  that  it  is  an  hour's  ride  from  Worcester 
to  Boston.  As  we  approach  the  "Athens  of 
America,"  we  pass  near  Lake  Cohitchuate, 
which  supplies  the  metropolis  with  Avater,  a 
placid  sheet  \vith  many  small  craft  floating  on 
its  glassy  surface.  About  ten  o'clock  we  find 
ourselves  in  the  "city  of  culture,"  when  a  cab 
manager  at  once  calls  a  carriage  for  our  use, 
adjusts  the  price,  and  gives  the  order  to  the 
"Hotel  \rendome,"  thus  preventing  confusion 
to  strangers  or  anxiety  about  luggage.  The 
"Vendome,"  on  Commonwealth  Avenue,  fac 
ing  part  of  The  Commons,  is  a  very  elegant 
white  marble  building,  about  six  stories  high, 
and  covering  the  major  part  of  a  square  The 
views  are  delightful  from  every  side,  the  Charles 
River  being  one  of  them.  It  is  raining  here, 
and  anything  but  warm,  "as  we  knoAV  it."  Re- 


THE  CITY  OF  BOSTON.  59 

freshing  ourselves,  we  take  lunch  (the  hotel  is 
not  on  the  European  plan),  and  then  order  a 
carriage  for  a  drive  to  Bunker  Hill  Monument, 
which  we  enjoy  to  the  fullest.  Mrs.  Murphy 
remained  in  the  office,  selecting  souvenir 
spoons,  specimens  of  which  she  presented  to 
each  of  us,  and  the  rest  of  the  party  climbed 
to  the  summit  of  the  tower,  two  hundred  and 
ninety-four  steps,  and  were  well  wearied  with 
the  unusual  exercise.  We  walked  around, 
read  the  inscriptions  on  the  slabs  that  mark 
the  walls  of  the  old  redoubt  and  Prescott's 
statue,  all  of  which  were  exceedingly  interest 
ing  and  historical. 

Reentering  our  carriage,  we  drive  around 
the  strangely-planned  city,  which  is  more  in 
tricate  than  we  could  have  imagined.  We  call 
at  a  dry  goods  store,  and  are  conveyed  to  its 
upper  stories  by  an  elevator.  The  sellers  of 
goods  are  all  women  and  young  girls,  the  lat 
ter  being  the  noisiest  and  most  "slangy"  lot 
I  ever  listened  to.  A  longer  jaunt  around 
town,  and  finally  home,  where  I  found  a 
friend's  note  and  card  awaiting  me.  AVe  dined 
at  6:30  p.  M.  in  a  spacious,  well-filled  dining 
hall,  and  the  meal  was  elegantly  served  and 
most  inviting.  The  waiters  throughout  the 
hotel  are  of  the  dark  race,  and  they  know  their 
business  perfectly.  My  companions  all  at- 


60  SNAP  NOTES. 

tended  the  Globe  Theater,  and,  with  a  friend, 
I  walked  to  the  Charles  River  Bridge,  made 
famous  by  Longfellow's  song,  "The  Bridge," 
and  we  stood  there  for  a  few  minutes  watching 
the  tide  and  the  "tall  church  towers."  It  was 
very  beautiful,  the  waters  sparkling  under  a 
thousand  lights,  the  mist  overhanging  the 
quiet  city  rendering  the  sky-piercing  spires 
phantom-like  and  stately.  The  theater  party 
returned  at  half  past  ten. 

Friday,  August  ,-?<9. 

I  arose,  donned  my  attire  early,  and  wrote 
several  letters.  My  friend  Dr.  F.,  of  Worcester, 
kindly  sent  a  message  to  the  effect  that  he 
would  come  around  between  eight  and  nine  to 
take  us  to  Cambridge.  He  was  on  time,  but, 
as  my  cousins  had  not  yet  appeared,  I  accepted 
his  invitation  to  visit  the  Notre  Dame  Convent, 
of  which  my  California  Alma  Mater  is  a  branch, 
to  meet  his  sister,  also  to  see  the  Cathedral  of 
Holy  Cross,  Immaculate  Conception  Church  of 
the  Jesuits,  who  also  own  and  conduct  Boston 
College,  adjoining  the  edifice.  It  rained  in 
cessantly.  I  have  learned  how  to  use  an  um 
brella  since  leaving  California.  The  rain  be 
coming  stormy,  we  called  a  cab,  and  comfortably 
drove  about  to  the  places  of  interest,  the  State 
House,  with  its  gilded  dome,  Boston  Commons, 


THE  CITY  OF  BOSTON.  61 

the  city  gardens,  new  public  library,  built  of 
white  stone,  patterned  in  the  Greek  style,  after 
the  Library  of  Athens,  the  Harvard  Prepara 
tory    Medical  School,    Academy    of  Arts   and 
Sciences,  Old  South  Church,  moved  and  changed. 
I  enjoyed  this   sight-seeing  thoroughly.     The 
Notre  Dame   Sisters   were   very  familiar.     Sr. 
Bernardine,  the  reverend  mother  of  the  convent, 
is  a  lovely  lady,  of  superior  character  and  ex 
cellent  address.     She  made  many  inquiries  re 
specting  our  San    Jose  college,  and  evinced  a 
gratifying  interest  in  California.     "To  a  way 
farer  in  a  strange  land  nothing  is  so  sweet  as 
to  hear  his  name  on  the  tongue  of  a  friend," 
remarks  the  sage  Egyptian  in  "  Ben  Hur,"  and 
I  may  add  that  it  is  equally  as  cheering  to  hear 
the  dear  names  of  our  loved  ones  mentioned 
by  strangers,  as  I  experienced  when  Sister  Ber 
nardine  asked  if  I  knew  Sister  Anna  Raphael, 
my  beloved  cousin  and  former  teacher,  and  her 
sister,  Miss  Marcella  Fitzgerald,  than  whom  I 
have  not  a  more  valued  friend  in  California, 
and  so  I  felt  the  sweet  thrill  in  my  heart  as 
happily  as  though  the  names   were  my  own. 
Returning  to  the  hotel   about   eleven  o'clock, 
finding   the  other  members   prepared,  Dr.    F. 
offered  to  conduct  our  party  of  five  across  the 
Charles  River,  over   the   bridge  immortalized 
by  America's  poet  laureate,  to  "Cambridge,  the 


62  SXAP  NOTES. 

classic,"  and  I  do  not  recall  having  ever  en 
joyed  a  day  more  replete  with  pleasure. 

Our  guide,  a  graduate  of  Harvard,  and  later 
of  a  Vienna  medical  college,  left  no  effort  un 
tried  to  render  the  occasion  enjoyable,  and  his 
exertions  were  indeed  appreciated  by  my  friends 
and  self  with  truly  California!!  enthusiasm. 
He  presented  his  fellow  student  and  friend,  Dr. 
Barnes,  a  worthy  practitioner  of  Cambridge, 
who  at  once  joined  us,  and  accompanied  us  to 
the  home  of  Longfellow,  which  we  inspected 
with  almost  reverence.  The  mansion  is  now 
in  possession  of  the  poet's  daughter,  who  at 
present  is  away  from  home,  and  the  hospitable 
housekeeper  extended  the  honors.  The  doctor 
led  the  way  to  the  study  of  the  author  of  "Hia 
watha,"  and  showed  all  the  articles  of  interest 
therein. 

Taking  advantage  of  the  privilege  I  sat  in 
the  prettily-carved  heavy  chestnutwood  easy 
chair,  made  from  the  tree  under  which  stood 
the  "  Village  Blacksmith's  "  shop,  and  presented 
to  the  poet  by  the  children  of  Cambridge,  men 
tioned  in  the  poem,  together  with  a  small  water- 
color  picture  of  tree  and  shop.  I  was  given  his 
pen  to  handle,  and,  with  indescribable  emotion, 
and  wishing  for  a  single  thought  worthy  of  the 
master  mind  that  had  swayed  this  weapon 
"mightier  than  the  sword,"  I  tremblingly 


THE  CITY  OF  BOSTON.  63 

wrote  a  line  suggestive  of  the  occasion  in  my 
autograph  book.  The  writing  desk  and  table 
remain  as  Mr.  Longfellow  left  it,  and  are  likely 
to  be  guarded  from  the  curious  as  long  as  the 
vigilant  housekeeper  continues  in  charge.  A 
painting  of  the  poet,  by  his  son  Ernest,  stands 
on  an  easel  near  the  table.  The  work  is  infe 
rior,  and  the  portrait  poor.  Books  lie  around 
in  artistic  disorder,  and  the  room  is  as  pretty 
as  it  is  interesting.  Across  the  hall  we  were 
shown  into  the  Washington  room,  where  our 
first  president  made  his  headquarter's  comfort 
able,  as  general  of  the  American  Army. 

In  the  absence  of  the  family  we  deemed  further 
inspection  intrusive,  and  took  our  departure, 
filled  with  a  happy  memory.  As  we  passed  out, 
we  noticed  the  Charles  River  gleaming  beyond, 
and  remembered  that  it  was  a  favorite  theme  of 
the  poet's,  and  his  verses  welled  up  into  expres 
sion,  which  we  quoted,  closing  the  gate,  and 
threw  back  a  kiss  to  the  dear  old  home  of  our 
favorite.  Following  up  the  avenue  we  came  to 
Elmwood,  the  Lowell  homestead,  where  most 
of  the  poet's  papers  were  written.  Strange,  I 
had  a  letter  of  introduction  to  James  Russell 
Lowell,  but  he  sickened  and  died  the  week  be 
fore  I  arrived. 

Retracing  our  path,  Drs  F.  and  B.  took  us 
to  Harvard  University,  all  through  which  we 


0»  THE 

'UNIVERSITY 


64  SNAP  NOTES. 

were  shown,  the  different  buildings,  and  the 
museum,  a  most  complete  and  beautifully  ap 
pointed  institution.  California  is  here  promi 
nently  represented  by  an  enormous  octopus, 
extending  across  the  ceiling  of  an  extensive 
exhibition  room.  The  gymnasium,  refectory, 
and  theater,  memorial  hall,  and  other  excellent 
departments,  were  most  interesting.  Next  we 
were  conveyed  to  the  old  elm, under  whose  shade 
Washington  received  command  of  the  army, 
July  3,  1775,  and  which  still  throws  its  cloak 
of  green  over  those  standing  anear,  who  read 
the  lines  upon  the  granite  that  prove  how 
much  respect  to  it  is  due.  ATandalism  is  ob 
viated  by  plates  of  tin  fastened  over  the  scars 
made  by  iconoclastic  hands.  A  shower  of 
leaves  fell  around  me  as  I  paused  beside  the 
iron  railing  encircling  the  venerated  tree,  and 
I  caught  some  of  them  as  souvenirs  of  the  hon 
ored  place.  As  it  has  continually  showered 
throughout  our  peregrinations  in  Cambridge,  I 
find  the  "rainy  day"  of  Longfellow  most  life 
like,  for— 

'•  With  each  gust  the  dead  leaves  fall, 
And  the  day  is  dark  and  cold  and  dreary." 

The  vines  are  clinging  everywhere,  and  how 
smooth  and  regular  is  their  clustering  wilder 
ness  of  beauty  We  contemplate  a  stroll  or 
drive  through  Mt.  Auburn  Cemetery,  the  AVest- 


THE  CITY  OF  BOSTON.  65 

minster  of  America,  but  the  rain,  the  incessant 
rain,  drives  us  back,  so  we  reluctantly  return 
to  Boston,  leaving  for  another  day  Auburn's 
storied  dead.  Now  our  program  calls  for  a 
thorough  inspection  of  Boston,  and  how  I  will 
enjoy  this  sight-seeing  in  the  old  historic  city  ! 
I  like  it  best  of  anything  I  have  seen  outside 
of  California,  the  dear  old  State,  which,  "taken 
all  in  all,  we  ne'er  shall  see"  her  "like  again." 
Entering  the  stately  Vendome  in  a  most  for 
lorn  and  bedraggled  condition,  we  hasten  to 
our  apartments  to  make  preparations  for  din 
ner,  which  we  expect  to  enjoy,  the  "inner  man" 
having  been  neglected  during  our  loiter  in 
Cambridge.  After  dinner  my  friend  returned 
to  Worcester. 

Saturday,  August  29. 

This  morning's  sunny  hours  were  spent  down 
town  shopping,  among  the  queerly  crooked 
streets.  The  day  has  been  charmingly  bright, 
and  everything  conducive  to  enjoyment  of  the 
outing.  We  bought  souvenirs  and  other  nick- 
nacks — perhaps  I  ought  to  designate  them  as 
"  Yankee  notions." 

Noontide  found  us  lunching,  and  later,  ac 
companied  by  Dr.  F.,  we  inspected  the  Mu 
seum  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  where  two  hours 
were  instructively  spent.  How  T  wish  I  could 


66  SNAP  NOTES. 

remember  all  I  saw  in  this  treasure-filled  mu 
seum  of  art ! 

Thence  our  escort  guided  us  to  the  North  or 
Christ  Church,  from  whose  tall  "  belfry  arch " 
gleamed  the  lanterns  of  Paul  Revere  in  1775, 
a  beacon  warning  to  the  people  of  Charlestown 
of  the  march  of  the  British  soldiery  from  town, 
"  down  to  their  boats  on  the  shore."  If  memory 
were  lax  in  retaining  the  impressions  of  his 
tory,  the  immortal  measure  of  Longfellow, 
familiar  to  every  schoolchild,  would  supply 
the  mental  vision  with  a  poetic  picture  of  this 
ride. 

"Through  all  our  history,  to  the  last, 

In  the  hour  of  darkness,  and  peril,  and  need, 
The  people  will  waken  and  listen  to  hear 

The  hurrying  hoof  beats  of  that  steed, 
And  the  midnight  message  of  Paul  Revere." 

Mrs.  Murphy  presented  me  with  "  The  Mid 
night  Ride"  souvenir  orange  spoon,  a  beauti 
fully  etched  representation  of  the  hero  wildly 
riding  to  "spread  the  alarm." 

Near  by  is  "  Old  Copp's  Hill  Burial  Ground," 
and  thither  we  wended  our  meanderings,  and 
had  no  occasion  to  regret  an  introduction  to 
Mr.  Edward  McDonald,  the  intelligent  superin 
tendent,  who  has  diligently  searched  the  ar 
chives  for  history  of  the  place  and  every  tomb  in 
the  cemetery,  and  has  compiled  the  result  of 
his  labor  in  neat  book  form. 


THE  CITY  OF  BOSTON.  67 

On  Copp's  Hill,  where  we  stand,  "Generals 
Burgoyne  and  Clinton  watched  the  battle  on 
Bunker  Hill,  and  directed  thebattery."  Within 
shadow  of  the  hill  stands  Boston's  oldest 
homestead,  and  Christ  Church,  erected  in 
1723,  is  said  to  be  the  oldest  but  one  public 
building  in  Boston.  "  The  prayer  books  and 
communion  silver,  given  by  George  II.,  in  1733, 
are  now  in  use."  The  church  also  contains 
a  bust  of  Washington,  which  was  the  first  ever 
made  of  the  "Father  of  his  country."  The 
chime  of  bells,  conveyed  from  England,  is  the 
most  ancient  chime  in  America,  dated  1744. 

One  of  the  oldest  gravestones  in  this  ceme 
tery  is  dated  1661,  and  I  remarked  that  the 
slabs  are  of  slate,  the  first  I  have  seen.  The 
inscriptions  are  cut  into  the  stone,  in  primitive 
lettering.  The  tombstone  said  to  be  the  oldest 
in  New  England,  according  to  Mr.  McDonald's 
pamphlet,  is  here,  erected  to  the  memory  of 
Grace  Berry,  who  died  in  Plymouth,  in  1625. 
When  Copp's  Hill  was  opened  first  as  a  burial 
ground,  her  remains  were  interred  herein,  in 
the  year  1659.  Among  the  most  interesting 
inscriptions  I  read,  the  one  over  the  grave  of 
Cotton  Mather  attracted  my  particular  atten 
tion,  and  I  freely  transcribe  the  wording  to  my 
notebook : — 


68  SWAP  NOTES. 

"The  Reverend  Doctors, 

Increase,  Cotton, 

&  Samuel  Mather 

were  interred  in  this  vault. 
'Tis  the  tomb  of  oar  Father's 

Mather Crocker's 

I.  Died  Augt.  27th,  1723,  se  84. 

C.  Died  Feb.  13th,  1727,  le  Go. 

S.  Died  June  27th,  1785,  a>  79." 

We  were  shown  where  stood  a  large  willow 
tree,  planted  in  the  Ellis  plot  in  1844,  which 
was  a  cutting  from  the  tree  over  Napoleon's 
grave  at  St.  Helena.  The  grave  of  Amos 
Lincoln  was  pointed  out,  with  the  information 
that  he  was  one  of  the  many  young  colonists 
who  overthrew  the  cargo  of  tea  in  Boston  Har 
bor,  and  afterwards  married  a  daughter  of 
Paul  Revere. 

I    copied  the   following   epitaph,  which  for 
peculiarity  struck  my  fancy:— 
"In  memory  of 

Mary  Huntley 

Who  departed  this  life  Sep.  28th,  1798, 
in  the  64th  year  of  her  age. 

"  Stop  here,  my  friend,  and  cast  an  eye. 

As  you  are  now,  so  once  was  I; 
As  I  am  now,  so  you  must  be. 

Prepare  for  death  and  follow  me." 

A  wag,  upon  perusing  the  warning,  added:— 

"To  follow  you  I'm  not  content, 
Unless  I  know  which  way  you  went." 


THE  CITY  OF  BOSTON.  69 

From  the  historic  spot,  filled  with  the  "silent 
majority  "  of  Puritan  heroes,  we  were  guided 
to  Faneuil  Hall,  with  its  big  "gold"  grass 
hopper  vane.  The  dear  old  building  has  been 
devoted  to  the  uses  of  a  market,  but,  were 
speech  possible,  what  stories  it  could  tell — hot 
headed  debate  and  earnest  appeal,  warm  ap 
plause  and  final  triumph.  The  edifice  (for  is 
it  not  dedicated  to  our  country,  which  claims 
us,  after  God?)  remains  about  as  when  the  colo 
nists  met  herein  and  read  the  immortal  Decla 
ration  which  proclaimed  them  free  and  inde 
pendent  people.  Everything  suggestive  of  the 
Revolutionary  days  is  held  in  almost  sacred  re 
spect  in  Boston,  and  Faneuil  Hall  building, 
used  as  a  market  place,  is  not,  indeed,  in  depre 
ciation  of  its  historic  character,  but  to  check 
the  corroding  influence  of  idleness,  time's 
wearying  enemy. 

Strolling  onward  we  reached  Granary  Ceme 
tery,  wherein  are  interred  the  remains  of  John 
Hancock,  the  fearless  signer,  with  other  wit 
nesses  of  the  Declaration,  Benjamin  Franklin 
and  Paul  Revere.  Every  name  inscribed  on 
the  bronze  gate  "cometh  up  as  a  flower"  from 
the  ground  of  early  learned  history  lessons,  and 
pondering  over  the  dust  these  sacred  precincts 
inclose  is  a  source  of  novel  interest  to  me, 
time  having  exorcised  the  dormitory  of  endless 
sleep  of  the  spirit  of  melancholy. 


70  SNAP  NOTES. 

The  little  short  street,  or  court,  where  Daniel 
Webster  and  Rufus  Choate  were  wont  to  walk 
together  for  hours  and  discuss  the  important 
affairs  of  State,  was  attractive  indeed,  and  I  was 
shown  the  hotel  wherein  the  two  statesmen 
dropped  ever  and  anon  to  moisten  their  throats, 
seared  by  dry  subjects.  This  hotel,  by  the  way, 
was  rendered  famous  by  the  facetious  remark  of 
Artemus  Ward  in  loquaciously  locating  Har 
vard  University  on  its  third  floor  (and  the  lawn 
facing  the  Conservatory  of  Music),  it  being  a 
resort  for  the  "students  on  a  lark." 

Wending  homeward,  or,  rather,  hotelward, 
we  bent  our  course  to  the  Charles  River,  took  a 
long  look  at  the  dark  waters,  rippling  and 
shimmering  in  the  different  electric  and  gas 
lights  in  lengthened  brilliancy. 

Reaching  the  Vendome,  we  dined,  and  did 
justice  to  the  repast,  after  which  my  compan 
ions  attended  the  theater,  the  doctor  spent  his 
evening  with  a  medical  friend,  and  I  repaired 
to  my  room  to  write  home  and  prepare  for  rest. 

Sunday,  August  SO. 

We  arose  early  to  take  a  trip  planned  by  Dr. 
F.  to  Gloucester  and  Salem,  to  meet  Dr.  Oliver 
Wendell  Holmes,  and  my  heart  bounded  with 
delight  in  anticipation  of  the  great  pleasure 
in  store  for  us,  but 


THE  CITY  OF  BOSTON.  71 

"  Pleasures  are  as  poppies  spread ; 
Pull  the  flower  and  the  bloom  is  shed." 

The  merciless  rain  persistently  imprisoned  us 
within  doors,  and  my  hopes  vanished  like  "chaff 
before  the  wind." 

We  attended  mass  at  the  cathedral  and 
Church  of  the  Immaculate  Conception,  then 
visited  Boston  College.  We  were  shown  all 
through  the  institution,  and  then  drove  home, 
not,  however,  without  being  allowed  the  won 
derful  privilege  of  a  peep  at  John  L.  Sullivan's 
saloon. 

Well,  we  wrote  letters  all  day,  entertained 
each  other  as  well  as  the  dark  day  allowed,  and 
during  the  afternoon  I  went  out  walking  with 
a  friend,  who  conducted  me  to  Boston  Harbor, 
whereat  arose  visions  of  the  active  "tea  party." 
Vessels  bound  for  New  York  and  other  places 
were  quietly  lying  at  the  wharf,  and  the'  city 
was  peculiarly  noiseless.  This  is  my  first  ex 
perience  of  a  Puritan  Sabbath.  Even  the  tink 
ling  bells  on  the  horses  of  street  cars  were  re 
moved,  lest  they  sound  too  gay  and  loud  for 
the  standard  solemnity  of  Sunday. 

The  rain  abating  we  wandered  along  Beacon 
Street  Hill,  where  my  companion  called  my 
attention  to  the  colonial  style  of  building, 
and  the  ancient  green  glass  window  panes. 
Through  Dr.  Holmes'  "Long  Walk"  of  the 


72  SNAP  NOTES. 


Commons  we  returned  to  the  hotel.  Throwing 
off  my  wraps  I  found  my  feet  damp,  the  only 
Uncomfortable  result  of  my  jaunt,  After  din 
ner  our  self-kindly-appointed  escort  returned 
to  his  home,  and  we  late  birds  retired  at  two 
o'clock  A.  M. 


Monday,  August  31. 

We  remained  within  doors  to-day,  having 
nothing  particular  to  do,  yet  we  cannot  leave 
here  until  to-morrow  night,  as  accommodations 
on  the  steamer  Plymouth,  via  "the  Sound,"  can 
only  be  afforded  us  then.  We  were  exceedingly 
late  for  breakfast,  having  arisen  at  nearly  noon 
tide,  so  were  served  in  the  small  dining  hall 
without  regard  to  the  menu.  This  afternoon  I 
visited  friends  in  Worcester,  and  was  shown 
the  beauties  of  that  city, — the  park  Lake  Quin- 
sigamund,  the  summer  resort  of  the  Chautau- 
quan  Association,  and  upon  whose  waters  the 
Harvard  boys  practice  the  graceful,  manly  art 
of  rowing,  when  preparing  for  a  contest,  also 
the  home  and  birthplace  of  Bancroft,  the  great 
historian,  and  other  points  of  interest.  We 
returned  on  the  evening  train,  and  all  retired 
about  midnight,  my  cousins  having  been  to  the 
theater. 

September  1. 

During  the  fresh,  rosy  hours  of  the  morning 


THE  CITY  OF  BOSTON.  73 

we  remained  at  home  and  wrote  our  letters. 
During  the  afternoon  we  went  for  a  walk 
through  the  crooked,  magnetic  thoroughfares, 
and  Mrs.  Murphy  bought  a  lot  of  Boston  tea  to 
take  home  with  her,  to  dispense  to  her  guests 
of  the  sewing  circle,  when  recounting  her  pere 
grinations  through  the  esthetic  city  of  learning. 
We  made  some  purchases,  souvenirs  of  New 
England,  and  over  the  soft,  green  carpet  of  the 
storied  Commons  returned  to  our  temporary 
quarters,  noting  on  our  way  the  glistening  frog 
pond  and  historic  elm  that  witnessed  the  per 
secution  of  witches,  and  other  uncanny  ceremo 
nies  of  the  very  early  Puritan  days,  all  speak 
ing  of  an  anxious  past  linked  strongly  to  the 
peace-crowned  present. 

We  visited  the  church  of  Rev.  Phillips 
Brooks,  which,  I  am  told,  lias  the  finest  and 
one  of  the  best-appointed  church  organs  in 
America,  the  second  finest  being  in  the  Taber 
nacle  at  Salt  Lake  City. 

Towards  evening  our  trunks  were  packed 
for  New  York,  and  we  prepared  for  traveling. 
We  left  the  beautiful  "Vendome"  for  the  Old 
Colony  Railroad  Office,  and  took  the  Fall 
River  line  for  Gotham.  We  entered  the  pal 
ace  car  "  Lilac  "  at  seven  o'clock,  and  soon  were 
whirling  away  from  Boston.  I  left  the  beauti 
ful  city  I  have  learned  to  love,  for  its  classic 


74  SNAP  NOTES 

associations  and  historcial  interest,  with  regret, 
as  some  of  the  most  instructive  moments  of  my 
life  have  just  been  experienced  here  Viewing 
the  quiet,  homelike  mansions  of  the  great  and 
grand  Cambridge,  where  stalwart  minds  have 
worked  and  rested,  was  a  pleasure  to  be  enjoyed 
by  me  but  once  in  life,  and  I  earnestly  wish  I 
could  repeat  it. 

We  arrived  at  Fall  River  at  8:30,  and 
boarded  the  Plymouth,  a  perfect  little  floating 
palace,  exquisitely  ornamented  interiorly,  and 
illuminated  by  myriads  of  electric  jets.  The 
furniture  throughout  is  handsome.  "  The 
Lowell  String  Band,"  of  ten  pieces,  discourses 
music  for  the  delectation  of  the  passengers. 
We  are  an  hour  late  in  starting,  it  being  now 
ten  o'clock,  whereas  we  should  have  been  steam 
ing  up  the  river  at  nine.  The  call,  "All  ashore 
who  are  going  ashore,"  must  be  a  signal  that 
we  soon  shall  start.  The  music  continues;  at 
times  the  strains  are  most  excruciating.  How 
keen  must  have  been  the  torture  of  the  witches, 
if  these  musicians  are  the  descendants  of  the 
old  colonists! 

At  10:20  we  start.  We  retire  at  eleven. 
Our  staterooms  are  neat,  convenient,  and  com 
fortable. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

GLIMPSES  OF  NEW  YORK  CITY. 

Wednesday,  September  2. 

WE  appear  in  sight  of  New  York  City  early 
and  come  out  to  take  a  look  at  Long 
Island  Sound,  and,  later,  our  destination,  un 
der  low-hanging  masses  of  fog.  The  first  build 
ing  "greeting  our  coming"  is  an  immense  in 
sane  asylum,  and  on  our  left,  farther  on  is 
Black  well's  Island,  with  its  gray  stone  prisons 
and  glistening  cannon.  As  we  approach  I  ob 
serve  hundreds  of  women  of  the  Island  Re 
formatory,  wearing  large  straw  hats,  in  ranks, 
walking  around  enjoying  the  morning  air  and 
sunshine.  We  pass  under  Brooklyn  Bridge  at 
nine  o'clock,  having  sped  past  the  I'uritan,  com 
ing  up  the  Sound,  although  she  left  Boston  two 
hours  ahead  of  us. 

We  were  conducted  to  a  carriage  by  the  por 
ter,  and  were  soon  "in  line"  trying  to  make 
way  to  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel.  The  streets 
were  dense  with  vehicles  of  every  known  de 
scription,  rendering  progress  difficult.  How- 

(75) 


76  SNAP  NOTES. 

ever,  at  last  we  registered  at  the  Fifth  Avenue, 
and  upon  reaching  our  rooms  our  California  mail 
was  sent  to  us,  and  with  indescribable  avidity 
I  devoured  the  contents  of  four  letters  from 
home,  the  first  missives  I  have  had  from  the 
loved  ones,  with  whom  it  seems  an  age  since  I 
parted.  I  answered  all,  and  wrote  a  note  to  a 
friend  in  Baltimore,  informing  him  of  our  ar 
rival  in  New  York,  and  likelihood  of  reaching 
"  Maryland,  my  Maryland  "  within  a  few  weeks. 
We  then  waited  for  our  trunks,  that  never  came 
—until  evening. 

Mrs.  B.  I).  Murphy  went  out  for  a  walk,  to 
look  for  her  old  home,  and  familiar  objects  in 
its  vicinity.  With  Martin  she  drove  to  the 
Bank  of  Donahue,  Kelly  &  Co.,  to  present  her 
letters  of  credit.  In  her  absence  Mr.  Malone 
called,  and  kindly  offered  to  be  of  use,  knowing 
our  inexperience  in  traveling,  and  possible  in 
convenience  we  might  encounter  in  a  strange 
city.  • 

We  dined  in  our  parlor  and  the  rest  of  the 
party  attended  the  Lyceum  Theater,  returning 
about  midnight,  when  we  retired.  I  had  de 
voted  the  hours  of  their  absence  to  reading, 
and  endeavoring  to  decipher  the  stenography 
of  this  crude  diary. 

September  3. 

With  the  first  smile  of  dawn  came  up  Mr. 


GLIMPSES  OF  NEW  YORK  CITY.  77 

Shriver's  card.  As  I  hud  arisen,  and  was 
ready  for  breakfast,  I  went  down  to  meet  him. 
He  had  received  my  note  of  the  day  previous, 
and,  traveling  at  night,  had  reached  New  York 
City  about  six  this  morning.  He  gave  us  a 
cordial  welcome  to  the  East,  which  warm  greet 
ing  was  succeeded  by  a  friendly  offer  of  him 
self  as  escort  for  the  day.  After  chatting 
awhile  we  were  joined  by  my  cousins,  and  all 
breakfasted,  and  went  immediately  to  do  some 
shopping,  Mr.  S.  acting  as  guide.  Gorham's 
elegant  display  of  silverware  was  supervised, 
and  from  the  rich  assortment  of  unique  designs 
Mrs.  M.  selected  several  dozen  exquisitely 
wrought  souvenir  spoons,  together  with  rare 
bits  of  art,  things  "of  beauty,"  that  cannot  fail 
to  be  "  a  joy  forever"  to  those  fortunate  enough 
to  possess  them  through  the  little  lady's  gen 
erosity  of  heart  and  purse. 

We  thoroughly  enjoyed  Tiffany's  Art  Rooms, 
and  wished  we  could  spend  a  week  among  the 
bric-a-brac  alone.  Next  dry  goods  houses  were 
visited,  and  wherever  shopping  was  to  be  done, 
until,  tired  and  weary,  we  returned  to  lunch. 
Then  Mr.  S.  took  Mrs.  M.  and  myself  on  the 
elevated  railroad  to  Benziger  Bros.,  away  down 
town.  I  bought  some  souvenirs  for  friends, 
and  Mrs.  Murphy  made  her  usual  liberal  pur 
chases.  Mr.  8.  showed  me  the  "  little  church 


78  SNAP  NOTES. 

'round  the  corner,"  which  edifice  I  was  anxious 
to  look  at,  and  many  other  places  of  interest 
claimed  my  attention  when  pointed  out  by  one 
so  intelligently  capable  of  instructing  the  un 
informed.  I  came  back  pleased  with  our  out 
ing.  Mr.  S.  invited  us  to  attend  the  fireworks 
on  Weehawken  Heights,  Hoboken,  New  Jersey, 
but  Martin  had  tickets  for  the  theater. 

We  dined  at  7:30,  arid  Mrs.  Murphy  spent 
the  evening  with  her  uncle,  Mr.  Green,  Mr.  S. 
accompanying  her  thither,  the  trio,  Martin, 
Maud,  and  Evie,  attending  the  theater.  I  read, 
and  wrote  my  letters,  until  the  return  of  my 
friends. 

I  do  not  like  the  climate  of  New  York  at 
this  season  ;  it  is  unpleasant,  the  air  being  moist, 
and  the  heat  oppressive. 

September  4. 

"Up  with  the  lark,"  and  prepared  for  the 
day,  arranged  my  trunk,  and  chased  time  until 
eleven  o'clock,  when  the  rest  of  the  party  were 
ready.  Mr.  Eugene  Kelly  called  on  Mrs.  Mur 
phy,  and  took  Martin  down  town.  After  break 
fast  Mr.  Shriver  appeared  in  time  to  accompany 
us  to  Lord  &  Taylor's,  the  suit  house.  Procur 
ing  a  conveyance  suitable  for  the  occasion,  he 
drove  us  through  Central  Park,  a  ride  I  was 
most  desirous  of  taking,  to  see  the  oft-heard-of 


GLIMPSES  OF  NEW  YORK  CITY.  79 

public  breathing-place  of  America's  greatest 
city.  I  always  speak  for  myself  and  may  say 
here  that  I  am  delighted  with  what  I  see  about 
me  in  this  beautiful  sylvan  retreat,  with  the 
pleasant  outing  and  the  agreeable  company. 

Upon  our  return  our  escort  guided  us  on  the 
elevated  railroad  to  the  Battery,  and  up  the 
Produce  Exchange  Building  to  the  tower,  two 
hundred  and  forty  feet  high,  fourteen  stories, 
whence  we  obtained  an  excellent  view  of  the 
city — Castle  Garden  almost  under  us,  Gover 
nor's  Island  just  beyond,  where  General  Hancock 
was  stationed  some  years  before  his  death,  Bed- 
loe's  Island,  with  the  "Liberty"  statue,  Brook 
lyn  Bridge.  East  River,  the  Hudson.  Staten 
Island,  the  Narrows,  or  Gate,  Perth-Amboy  be 
yond  Staten  Island,  all  delineated  so  perfectly 
and  charmingly  as  to  be  a  picture  in  the  gallery 
of  memory  forever.  Although  enchanted  with 
the  scene  and  occasion,  after  an  hour's  contem 
plation  of  the  busy  city  under  us,  we  descended 
and  were  shown  Wall  Street,  where  fabulous 
fortunes  have  been  made  and  lost  within  a  day. 
It  is  a  narrow  highway,  of  a  few  blocks,  stretch 
ing  towards  East  River,  and  but  for  its  name 
would  never  arrest  attention.  We  stood  at  the 
entrance  of  Trinity  Church,  almost  classic  in 
its  ancient  dignity,  then  sauntered  leisurely  to 
the  building  containing  the  offices  of  Jay  Gould, 


80  SNAP  NOTES. 

.Russell  Sage,  and  other  notable  personages  of 
the  metropolis;  and,  indeed,  many  other  sights 
claimed  us,  which  my  wearv  head  cannot  re 
call. 

Taking  the  cars,  we  returned  to  the  hotel 
very  tired.  Shortly  thereafter  Mr.  S.  intro 
duced  his  sister,  Mrs.  T.  J.  Myer,  and  her  two 
daughters,  of  Maryland,  to  our  party,  who  are 
en  route  for  home,  from  a  visit  to  Boston,  Ded- 
ham,  and,  later,  Newport.  Mrs.  Myer  is  a 
rather  tall,  stout  lady,  with  comely  features, 
kindly  expression,  and  dignified  mien.  Gently 
welcoming  our  "  California  delegation  "  East, 
she  warmly  and  hospitably  invited  us  to  visit 
her  home  in  Maryland,  all  of  which  I  appre 
ciate,  being  a  stranger  in  a  strange  place. 

After  dinner  Mr.  Sh river  took  us  all  to  Wee- 
hawken  Heights,  on  the  Jersey  side  of  the  Hud 
son,  the  vicinity  being  the  scene,  if  I  mistake 
not,  of  the  Hamilton-Burr  duel — now  called 
Hoboken.  The  little  five-minute  trip  across 
the  river  is  peculiarly  pleasing,  the  many  gas, 
electric,  and  other  lights  illuminating  the  rip 
pling  waters,  and  the  colored  lights  of  the 
vessels  giving  life  and  beauty  to  the  strange, 
sparkling  scene. 

We  were  conveyed  to  the  amphitheater,  and 
there  witnessed  the  El  Dorado  extravaganza  of 
King  Solomon,  which  was  elegantly  presented, 


GLIMPSES  OF  NEW  YORK  CITY.  81 

with  seven  hundred  persons  participating  at 
once.  The  rich  dresses,  graceful  posing,  and 
agreeable  singing  were  most  enchanting,  and 
altogether  the  play  was  entirely  distinct  from 
anything  I  have  ever  witnessed.  The  arena 
was  arranged  in  the  opon  air,  on  the  Heights, 
the  sky  forming  the  canopy,  and  when  the  walls 
of  Jerusalem  were  burned,  the  smoke  ascended, 
circulated  in  the  air,  and  disappeared  into  space 
as  naturally  and  gracefully  as  possible. 

We  next  attended  the  fireworks,  then  sat  and 
listened  to  the  concert,  at  which  Mr.  Levy,  the 
cornetist,  was  to  have  played,  but  he  failing  to 
appear  we  returned  to  the  ferry,  and  home. 
There  were  eleven  in  the  party,  and  we  enjoyed 
the  unique  evening's  entertainment  very  much, 
with  the  cool  dews  of  night  glistening  over  our 
raiment  in  the  radiance  of  a  thousand  lights. 

Saturday,  September  5, 

We  were  up  and  about  at  eight  o'clock. 
After  breakfast  our  escort  conducted  us  to 
the  Hoffman  House,  to  see  the  works  of  art 
displayed  in  the  salon — "Satyr,  and  the 
Nymphs"  of  Bougereau,  a  "St.  John  in  the 
Wilderness "(?)  by  Correggio,  a  fine  piece  of 
work  representing  Port  Marseilles,  valued  at 
$25,000,  some  chaste  statuary,  and  other  articles 
of  vertu.  He  then  suggested  a  look  at  the 


82  SNAP  NOTES. 

Eden  Musee,  where  are  to  be  seen  the  wax 
works  after  the  house  of  Madame  Tussaud  in 
London,  the  royal  heads  of  Europe,  a  bevy  of 
Confederate  and  Federal  soldiers  of  the  late 
war,  prominent  musicians,  actors,  and  actresses, 
great  men  of  the  day,  etc.  Below  we  enter  the 
"Chamber  of  Horrors."  Here  most  heart- 
thrilling  scenes  are  depicted  to  the  life.  Why 
is  Millet's  "  Angelus"  presented  in  wax  in  the 
Chamber  of  Horrors?  "The  Guillotine," 
"Eyraud,"  the  brutal  murderer  of  Gouffe, 
"Judith  and  Holofernes,"  "Charlotte  Corday," 
"  The  Lion's  Bride/'  "Execution  by  Electricity," 
are  all  appropriately  in  place  representing 
horror,  but  why  "The  Angelus"? 

A  funny  incident  happened  as  we  were  pass 
ing  from  one  hall  to  the  next.  The  word 
"paint"  in  large  letters  was  attached  to  the 
back  of  a  bench,  and  a  gentleman  had  just 
arisen  from  the  seat  and  was  seriously  contem 
plating  the  damage  wrought  on  his  new  stylish 
trousers  by  the  contact.  The  expression  of 
regret  was  so  apparent  on  his  countenance  that 
we  pitied  his  misfortune,  until  Evie  exclaimed: 
''The  goose!  Couldn't  he  see  'paint'  big  enough 
to  warn  him,  if  he  didn't  smell  it?"  "A  light 
breaks  in  upon  our  brain"— the  immobility  of 
the  figure  suggested  that  it  was  wax.  We 
felt  foolish,  but  enjoyed  the  amusing  occurrence 
to  its  fullest. 


GLIM  PS  LS  OF  NEW  YOItK  CITY.  83 

The  art  gallery  of  the  Musee  is  full  of  treas 
ures,  and  well  worth  a  visit,  but  time  is  flying, 
and  we  must  leave  these  truly  realistic  scenes 
for  our  own  active  ones  of  life. 

I  accompanied  Mrs.  Murphy  on  another 
shopping  tour,  and  when  we  returned  to  the 
hotel,  at  six  o'clock  p.  M.,  we  Avere  very  tired, 
faint,  and  hungry.  I  feel  the  depressing  effects 
of  the  climate,  possibly  the  result  on  a  consti 
tution  unused  to  close,  moist,  oppressive  heat. 
The  Baltimore  party  left  for  home  on  the  three 
o'clock  train,  having  called  to  say  adios  dur 
ing  our  absence.  The  trio  went  to  the  theater 
in  the  evening.  Mrs.  M.  arranged  her  pur 
chases,  packed  them  into  trunks  for  home  go 
ing,  and  about  eleven  o'clock  we  gladly  wel 
comed  "nature's  sweet  restorer."  Was  some 
what  homesick  this  afternoon  and  telegraphed 
to  my  sisters  at  the  dear  old  home,  the  like  of 
which  I  have  not  yet  seen. 

Sunday,  September  6. 

I  was  prepared  and  ready  for  church  at  8:30; 
the  rest  of  the  company  appeared  at  nine,  when 
we  breakfasted  and  attended  the  Jesuits'  Church 
of  St.  Francis  Xavier  at  half  past  eleven.  We 
called  at  the  Academy  of  the  Sacred  Heart, 
where  Mrs.  Murphy  had  studied  in  her  girl 
hood,  and  felt  inclined  to  review  the  earlier 


84  SNAP  NOTES. 

scenes  supplied  by  faithful  memory.  Intro 
ducing  ourselves  as  Califomians,  always  a  talis- 
manic  title  in  the  East,  we  were  gently  invited 
within,  and  entertained  by  a  sweet-faced,  an 
gelic-mannered  lady  in  the  garb  of  the  order. 
After  many  inquiries  about  our  happy  land, 
she  softly  asked  if  any  of  us  knew  of  Kern 
County,  in  California.  I  responded  in  the  af 
firmative,  whereupon  she  questioned  me  about 
a  nephew  from  whom  she  had  not  heard  for  a 
year  or  more,  and  about  him  she  was  very  anx 
ious.  Mentioning  his  name,  I  was  surprised 
to  learn  that  the  young  man  was  one  who  had 
brought  me  letters  of  introduction  from  Vir 
ginia,  and  had  visited  my  home  just  two  weeks 
prior  to  my  departure  on  this  trip.  It  was 
with  strange  pleasure  that  I  afforded  the  good 
lady  the  information  she  sought.  The  coin 
cidence  was  a  peculiar  one.  Madame  O'R. 
was  clever  and  kind,  but  with  this  new  friend 
we  soon  had  to  part,  to  return  to  lunch. 

Although  it  was  raining,  and  close,  yet  we 
took  a  carriage  drive  to  Brooklyn,  over  the 
famous  bridge.  We  counted  forty  churches  in 
sight  and  about  concluded  that  "of  a  verity" 
Brooklyn  is  the  "city  of  churches." 

While  driving  all  through  Greenwood  Cem 
etery,  the  day  merged  into  a  beautiful  after 
noon,  with  occasional  showers.  Here  the  rich 


0/'1  tftiW  YOItK  VWY. 


and  the  great  are  interred,  it  appeared  a  vast 
park,  with  beautiful  driveways,  ponds,  trees, 
shrubbery,  lawns,  and  endless  varieties  of  flow 
ers,  James  Gordon  Bennett's  plot  is  remark 
able  for  an  elegant  piece  of  pure  white  Italian 
marble,  sculptured  by  a  master  hand,  represent 
ing  a  woman  in  the  attitude  of  prayer,  whose 
vesture's  folds  stand  out  in  broad  relief  as 
though  fluttered  by  a  passing  zephyr.  The 
tomb  of  the  Stewarts  and  other  men  of  wealth 
are  to  be  seen  without  introduction.  We  were 
shown  the  grave  and  monument  of  Charlotte 
Canda,aged  seven  teen,  who  was  thrown  from  her 
carriage  and  killed  when  going  to  attend  a  party 
given  in  honor  of  her  birthday.  The  monu 
ment  is  a  beautifully  chiseled  marble  in  form 
of  a  shrine  inclosing  the  figure  of  a  sweet  vir 
ginal  girl,  suggestive  of  our  "  Lady  of  Lourdes," 
so  prettily  carved  and  chaste  looking  in  its 
graceful  robes  folded  softly  around  her  standing 
form.  Many,  many  elegant  mausoleums  called 
attention  by  the  superiority  of  their  artistic 
worth,  but  could  not  be  mentioned  in  a  hasty 
notebook  like  this. 

Recrossing  the  bridge,  which  alone  is  a  new 
sensation  to  us,  we  reached  the  Fifth  Avenue 
Hotel,  and  dined  at  seven,  after  having  spent  a 
delightful  afternoon. 

Mrs.  Murphy  and  Martin  went  out  early  in 


M  SNAP  NOTES, 

the  evening  for  her  "  Uncle  Green,"  The  eneiv 
vating  effects  of  the  sultry  climate  have  pros 
trated  Evie;  she  could  not  accompany  us  to 
Brooklyn,  and  has  been  ill  nearly  all  day. 
Mr.  Green  returned  with  Mrs.  M.  and  spent  the 
evening  with  us.  He  is  a  very  nice  old  gentle 
man,  and  an  interesting,  well-informed  talker. 
Possessing  an  artist  soul  he  is  by  profession  a 
sculptor,  and  I  enjoyed  conversing  with  him. 

September  7. 

This  morning  I  received  letters  from  home. 
How  happy  it  makes  me  to  hear  from  there ! 
Later  we  repeated  a  shopping  tour,  then  re 
turned  to  luncheon,  expecting  Mr.  Kelly,  who 
invited  Mrs.  M.  for  a  drive  through  the  park. 
This  being  Labor  day,  many  of  the  stores  wore 
closed,  a  miserable  demonstration  and  proces 
sion  showing  slightly  how  the  occasion  is  hon 
ored.  The  day  is  bright,  but  again  sultry. 
Mr.  Kelly  did  not  appear. 

September  8. 

I  was  up  with  the  dawn,  and  partook  of  our 
matin  meal  at  eleven.  Spent  the  morning  in 
the  stores  with  Mrs.  Murphy,  and  the  afternoon 
down  town  with  Maud  and  Evalyn,  a  new  ex 
perience  for  us.  I  am  getting  tired  of  New 
York,  and  would  like  a  lungful  of  good,  light. 

O  O  c"> 


GLIMPSES  OF  NKW  YORK  CITY.  8? 

fresh  air.  I  foci  very  weak  after  my  jaunt 
around  town.  The  god  of  sleep  offers  particu 
larly  acceptable  charms,  and  I  resign  myself 
to  blissful  slumber,  while  the  rest  attend  the 
theater. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A    TRIP    UP    THE    HUDSON. 

September  9. 

A  DMISSION  day  of  California !    This  morn- 
-£*-  ing  we  took  tire  steamer  Albany  for  a  trip 
up  the  Hudson,  to  Albany,  and  were  nine  hours 
on  the  water.     The  views  on  both  sides  are  as 
picturesque  as  some  I  have  seen  of  the  Rhine;  the 
water  is  as  smooth  as  glass  at  times,  and  again 
in  undulating  waves  sweeps  nobly  to  the  sea. 
I  am  told  the  river  varies  from  a  mile  to  two 
miles  in  width,  and  in  the  bays  it  is  from  three 
to  four  miles  in    breadth.     It   originally  had 
several    names,  the  French  calling  it  "Rio  de 
Montaigne;"  the   Dutch   designated    this  vast 
arm  of  the  sea  "Mauritius,"  after  the  Nassaun 
Prince  Maurice.    The  Indian  names  are  numer 
ous  and  appropriate.    "The  Hudson"  was  finally 
settled   as  the  proper  title  by  the  English  in 
honor  of  Henry  Hudson,  who  was  an  English 
man,  although  under  Dutch  auspices.     He  first 
explored  the  river  from  the  now  metropolis  to 
the  capital  in  1609. 

(88) 


,i  TRIP  UP  WIN  UVIWtff.  W 

Taking  our  chairs  on  the  deck  of  the  well- 
appointed  steamer,  comfortably  wrapped,  a  brisk 
breeze  fanning  our  faces,  God's  perfect  sunshine 
smiling  on  us,  the  panorama  of  grandeur  un 
folds  before  us.  On  the  right,  or  east  bank, 
the  Manhattanville  College  of  the  Christian 
Brothers,  and  elegant  adjoining  convent,  loom 
up  amid  the  trees,  reposeful  in  their  clustering 
wood,  which  "crescents  more  than  half  the 
lawn."  Soon  follows  the  home  of  Audubon, 
the  ornithologist.  On  the  west  bank  the  Pali 
sades,  in  their  columnar  strength,  buffet  wind 
and  wave  for  fifteen  miles.  They  are  of  "  ba 
saltic  trap-rock"  formation.  Next  I  note  the 
home  of  James  Gordon  Bennett, on  Washington 
Heights,  where  Fort  Washington  stood  when 
taken  by  the  English  in  1770.  Fort  Lee 
stands  on  the  western  bank.  Stewart  Castle, 
011  the  summit  of  the  Heights,  is  grand  and 
lordly  in  its  position  of  superiority  and  elegance. 
The  Palisades  continue  on  the  west  side,  and 
the  end  of  Manhattan  Island  is  reached  as  we 
approach  Spuyten  Duyval  Creek  and  station. 

The  landscape,  including  Riverdale,  is-  a 
series  of  pretty  scenes,  perfect  poems  of  nature. 
Fort  Hill  Castle,  the  former  property  of  Edwin 
Forest,  the  tragedian,  was  purchased  for  the 
Convent  of  Mount  St.  Vincent,  which  stately 
building  stands  in  prominent  view  near  the 


00  SWAP  MOTES, 

river's  edge,  sloping  lawns   ami   tree-girt  paths 
forming  a  tasteful  foreground. 

Yonkers  is  next  in  sight,  with  its  notable 
feature,  the  old  Phillipse  Manor,  conspicuous 
midst  the  leafy  wold.  It  was  built  in  1682, 
and  used  occasionally  by  General  Washington 
during  the  early  struggle  for  independence. 

Passing  Glenwood  (this  is  the  third  place  of 
the  name  I  have  seen  since  leaving  California 
we  are  regaled  with  a  lovely  view  of  "Grey- 
stone,"  the  handsome  home  of  the  late  Hon. 
Samuel  J.  Tilden.  Within  cool  shades  of 
kindly  green,  uprearing  its  gray  front  to  the 
sun,  the  mansion,  characteristic  of  its  late  own 
er's  life,  is  open  to  inspection,  and  like  him, 
too,  in  that  it  is  without  flaw. 

The  Palisades  rise  higher,  reaching  as  they 
stretch  onward  over  five  hundred  feet,  until  the 
boundary  line  between  New  York  and  New 
Jersey  is  gained,  when  they  abruptly  cease. 
Dobb's  Ferry  is  pointed  out  to  me  as  the 
place  where  the  intercessors  for  Major  Andre's 
life  met  General  Greene,  "president  of  the  court 
which  condemned  him  to  death." 

"Sunnyside,"  the  charming  cottage  of  our 
gentle  Irving,  embowered  in  foliage  and  made 
up  of  gable  ends,"  is  the  most  interesting  villa 
in  Irvington,  "the  classic  and  poetic  spot  of  our 
countrv." 


A  TRIP  UP  THE  HUDSON.  01 

The  residence  of  Jay  Gould,  on  tins  old 
Paulding  property,  is  a  castle-like  structure, 
imposingly  handsome,  yet  my  interest  is  more 
keenly  pointed  to  Tarry  town,  where  rest  the 
remains  of  Washington  Irving,  in  Sleepy  Hol 
low  Churchyard.  A  simple  stone,  modestly  in 
scribed,  %<  Washington  Irving,  born  April  3, 
1783,  died  Nov.  28,  1859,"  shows  the  place  of 
his  burial. 

Here,  too,  near  the  village  Andre  was  cap 
tured,  and  on  the  spot  has  been  erected  a  mon 
ument  commemorative  of  the  event.  Strange 
to  note  that,  coincident  with  the  traitor  Arnold's 
death  in  England,  the  tree  under  which  Andre 
was  caught  was  killed  by  lightning  in  the 
second  year  of  this  century. 

The  village  of  Nyack  is  on  our  left,  or  on  the 
west  bank,  nestling  among  the  hills.  Sing- 
Sing  Prison  buildings  are  made  of  marble,  and 
the  town  is  quite  a  large,  pretty  settlement,  with 
pleasant  homes  and  fine  residences. 

The  next  place  of  interest  is  the  Croton 
Works;  they  supply  the  metropolis  with  water, 
an  extensive  aqueduct  conveying  sixty  million 
gallons  a  day  to  the  Central  Park  reservoir. 

A  flash  of  history  rushes  to  memory  at  sight 
of  Stony  Point,  whose  fort  was  recaptured  by 
mad  Anthony  Wayne  in  Revolutionary  days. 
The  banks  of  the  Hudson  teem 


0* 


«i  WAP 

lore,  yet  1  may  only  note  places  familiar  to  my 
unsophisticated  mind  through  reading,  and 
memory  of  American  history,  which  is  fast 
fading  for  lack  of  review. 

The  ruins  of  Fort  Independence  are  at  Peeks- 
kill,  which  also  embraces  the  birthplace  and 
death  scene  of  John  Paulding,  one  of  Andre's 
captors.  Near  the  village  is  the  country  seat  of 
the  late  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 

Next  011  the  west  bank  is  Captain  Kidd's 
Point.  We  all  know  the  story  of  that  adven 
turous  mariner  and  his  pirate  crew.  The  crags 
known  as  Dunderbergh,  described  by  Irving, 
are  sublimely  picturesque,  but  lacking  the 
"tumbling  imps"  and  malignant  spirits  who 
visited  dangerous  squalls  upon  the  Dutch  sea 
captains  that  failed  in  respect  to  the  goblin 
ruler. 

West  Point  commands  attention  on  the  bluff 
overlooking  the  pacific  waters  of  the  Hudson, 
on  our  left,  and  is  grandly  situated.  During 
the  Revolution  General  Arnold  the  afterward 
unhappy  traitor,  was  in  command  of  this  strong 
hold.  "History  tells  the  rest." 

Continuing  our  "voyage"  and  admiring  the 
restful  look  of  the  beautiful  scenery,  enraptured 
with  the  views,  at  times  reaching  sublimity,  we 
come  to  Newbergh,  where  the  noble  old  Father 
of  His  Country  refused  the  honors  of  kingship, 
and  afterwards  disbanded  his  arm v. 


A   TRIP  UP  THE  HUDSON  93 

At  noon  we  descended  to  the  dining  saloon 
and  took  lunch.  The  meal  was  not  what  we 
expected,  and  was  hardly  enjoyable,  so  we  again 
contented  ourselves  on  deck,  the  cabin  being 
close  and  "stuffy." 

Poughkeepsie,  beautifully  located,  is  called 
the  "Queen  City  of  the  Hudson."  It  is  full  of 
fine  residences,  and  has  a  large  population,  who 
appreciate  the  patriotic  interest  which  the  city 
enjoys,  having  held  the  State  Legislature  when 
New  York  was  in  possession  of  the  British,  in 
1777.  We  pass  under  Poughkeepsie  Bridge,  a 
valuable  enterprise  which  connects  the  East 
with  the  mines  of  Pennsylvania. 

Watching  forward,  without  notes  for  some 
distance,  I  rest  my  thoughts,  but  I  take  up  the 
strain  as  we  near  the  Caatskills — the  dreamland 
of  poor  old  Rip  Van  Winkle,  the  master  char 
acter  of  Irving,  which  will  live  as  long  as  the 
Hudson  flows.  It  is  not  for  my  feeble  pen  to 
attempt  a  picture  of  the  mountains,  it  takes  an 
Irving  to  delineate  in  golden  wording.  I  am 
satisfied  to  gaze  upon  the  woody  uplands  that 
kept  the  admiring  attention  of  our  charming 
writer  and  historian  of  the  Hudson,  until  they 
"melt  into  hazy  distance,"  and,  gazing  in  en 
chanted  reverie,  my  heart  goes  out  to  poet, 
artist,  sculptor,  and  actor,  for  each  is  keeping 
vivid  the  fairy  charms  depicted  of  these  high 
lands  by  the  chaste  and  gentle  Irving. 


94  SNAP  NOTES. 

The  air  is  so  fresh  and  bracing  that  one  can 
not  remain  long  under  the  dreamy  influence. 
There  is  a  station  on  the  east  bank  called  Stuy- 
vesant,  after  the  old  Dutch  governor,  and  some 
where  hereabouts  resided  Martin  Van  Buren. 
The  Convent  of  the  Sacred  Heart  stands  high 
on  the  western  slope,  and  is  an  elegant  institu 
tion,  conducted  by  the  "Madames  "  for  the  higher 
education  of  young  ladies.  The  old  manor 
house  of  the  Van  Rensselaers  still  rests  on  the 
eastern  shore,  and  is  certainly  a  "relic  of  antiq 
uity,"  for  it  was  built  in  1640. 

Resting  my  eyes  I  await  the  arrival  of  our 
steamboat  at  the  capital,  which  we  reach  at 
six  o'clock— one  hundred  and  forty-four  miles 
from  New  York  City,  and  I'm  glad  to  land. 

A  sensational  experience  awaited  us  upon 
leaving  the  boat.  The  hotel  men  were  scream 
ing  the  names  of  the  houses  they  represented 
and  pulling  passengers  every  way  but  the  one 
they  wished  to  go.  They  kept  up  the  deafening 
sounds,  confusing  and  unpleasant,  until  we 
were  safely  within  a  coach.  We  aimed  for  the 
"Delavan,"  where  we  registered. 

After  supper  we  took  a  carriage  for  a  drive 
around  the  city.  We  were  shown  the  magnifi 
cent  Statehouse,  which  they  tell  me  has  cost 
seventeen  millions  already, and  when  completed 
will  exceed  in  size  the  capitol  at  Washington. 


A   TRIP  UP  THE  HUDSON.  95 

It  is  certainly  a  noble  structure,  but  as  yet  un 
finished. 

We  enjoyed  the  Washington  Driving  Park, 
in  which  stands  a  bronze  statue  of  Robert  Burns, 
erected  by  the  Scotch  citizens.  An  artificial 
lake  underlies  fine  sheltering  trees,  a  shining 
gem  of  beauty.  Thence  the  homes  of  lumber 
men,  bankers,  merchants,  and  business  men 
attracted  our  attention,  as  they  face  the  park  on 
Inglewood  Place,  and  are  perfect  dreams  of 
luxury.  I  was  desirous  of  seeing  some  of  the 
old  Dutch  houses,  and  saw  one  of  the  oldest  in 
Albany.  It  stands  on  a  corner,  a  quaint  old 
brick  building  used  as  a  grocery  store,  and  is 
marked  in  large  figures  1710. 

The  city  is  large,  wealthy,  and  influential, 
and,  being  New  York's  capital,  how  could  it  be 
otherwise? 

Having  seen  all  we  could,  Mrs.  Murphy  re 
mained  with  me  in  the  hotel,  while  Martin  took 
Maud  and  Evie  to  the  theater.  They  returned 
about  eleven  o'clock,  and  we  prepared  to  retrace 
our  trip  to  New  York  City  via  New  York  and 
Hudson  River  Railroad,  leaving  Albany  at  1:30, 
arriving  in  New  York  City  at  six  o'clock  this 
morning.  It  was  a  pleasant,  bright  trip.  I 
enjoyed  the  few  hours'  rest  afforded  by  the  cars 
coming  down  the  east  bank  of  the  storied  Hud 
son. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  CITY  OF  BROTHERLY  LOVE. 

Thursday,  September  10. 

"IMMEDIATELY  upon  arriving  we  retired 
•*~  to  our  rooms  for  a  rest.  We  found  letters 
from  home  and  Baltimore.  During  the  day 
we  visite  1  St.  Patrick's  Cathedral,  on  Fifth 
Avenue,  a  large,  grand  edifice  of  white  stone, 
with  handsomely  carved  marble  altars.  I  did 
not  particularly  admire  the  elegant  structure, 
as  it  appeared  to  me  cold  interiorly,  and  exteri 
orly  seemed  to  suggest  itself  a  monument  to 
the  architect's  skill,  without  the  inviting  air 
which  calls,  "  Ye  that  are  weary  and  heavy 
laden,"  etc.  The  steps  leading  to  the  door  of 
the  superb  edifice  are  few,  which  is  an  advan 
tage,  and  the  symmetrical  harmony  of  the 
building  is  not  marred  by  the  peculiar  idea  of 
economy  which  places  a  hall  beneath,  to  the 
inconvenience  of  churchgoers,  especially  old 
people  whose  climbing  days  are  over. 

T  went  down  town  with  Mrs.  Murphy  and  to 
call  on  FT.  Healey,  West  Fourteenth  Street,  but 
(96) 


THE  CITY  OF  BROTHERLY  LO  VK.  9? 

found  linn  not.  Returning  to  the  hotel,  we 
dined  late,  and  Martin  took  Maud  and  Evie  to 
the  theater. 

Fr.  Healey  came  to  spend  the  evening.  He 
was  a  playmate  of  Mrs.  M.'s  New  York  child 
hood,  and  was  pleased  to  see  her.  He  is  a 
bright,  intelligent  man,  whom  I  am  happy  to 
meet.  He  kindly  invited  us  to  Coney  Island 
to  spend  a  day  with  his  sister  and  other  rela 
tives,  but  our  arrangements  to  leave  here  are 
almost  completed.  He  contemplates  attending 
the  funeral  to-morrow  of  Mrs.  Riordan,  mother 
of  the  late  Rev.  J.  J.  Riordan,  founder  of  the 
Emigrants'  Home,  Castle  Garden. 

September  11. 

Arose  at  8:30  and  prepared  my  baggage  for 
Baltimore  ria  Philadelphia.  After  breakfast 
we  took  the  ferryboat  about  eleven  o'clock, 
crossed  the  North  or  Hudson  River  into  New 
Jersey,  and  boarded  the  Pennsylvania  train  en 
route  for  the  Quaker  City. 

We  soon  cross  the  river  over  the  drawbridge, 
and  stop  at  Newark,  a  fine,  thriving  city,  whose 
birth  antedates  the  Revolution.  Then,  skim 
ming  omvard,  we  pass  a  station  marked  "  Wa- 
verley."  The  country  looks  well  for  farmingand 
grazing;  the  trees  are  extensively  spread  but 
small  sized.  Elizabeth  is  the  name  of  another 

7 


98  SNAP  NOTES. 

station  and  town.  We  are  rapidly  passing 
many  others,  but  I  find  it  difficult  to  catch  the 
lettering,  the  train  is  speeding  so  swiftly. 

Menlo  Park  is  a  familiar  title,  where  stands 
a  pretty  village  with  pleasure  grounds  and 
drives,  natural  trees  and  shrubbery,  shady  and 
fresh  looking.  Gazing  about  and  longing  for 
information,  enjoying  all  I  can  see,  I  drop  my 
pencil  until  coming  into  Morrisville,  Pennsylva 
nia,  after  which  I  note  Landreth's  Farm  and 
Garden  Seed  Place,  founded  in  1780.  It  is  a 
prosperous  appearing,  extensive  estate.  The 
broad  lands  of  Pennsylvania  are  excellent  for 
ranching  purposes,  and  there  are  many  richly 
laden  orchards  scattered  around  in  sight 

Germantown  Junction  is  called,  and,  looking 
out,  I  behold  smoking  chimneys  everywhere, 
and  suppose  we  have  entered  a  manufacturing 
city  of  no  mean  importance.  I  wonder  if  my 
memory  is  correct  in  locating  this  as  the  place 
occupied  by  the  British  when  surprised  by 
Washington  in  1777. 

Leaving  the  smokestacks  of  Germantown 
we  cross  the  river  and  gain  the  city  of  Phila 
delphia,  where  thought  is  lost  in  the  sea  of  im 
mense  buildings  and  uniform  rows  of  brick 
dwellings. 

We  took  a  room  at  the  Lafayette  Hotel  for 
the  day,  and  partook  of  a  midday  dinner, 


TJIE  CITY  OF  BROTHERLY  LOVE.         99 

then  ordered  a  carriage  and  drove  around  the 
city,  through  Fairmount  Park,  for  four  hours. 
The  charming  drive  along  the  banks  of  the 
beautiful  Schuylkill  was  indeed  enjoyable,  and 
I  took  special  pleasure  in  noting  the  perfect 
views  of  varied  scenery. 

We  rode  over  the  Centennial  Fair  Grounds, 
and  noted  Memorial  Hall,  1876,  as  the  monu 
ment  of  that  great  year,  remaining  in  the  park, 
also  the  superb  fountain  erected  by  the  Mary 
land  citizens  of  Philadelphia,  being  a  gigantic 
figure  of  Moses  as  a  centerpiece,  standing  upon 
a  firm  foundation  of  massive  rock.  Around 
this  imposing  form  are  the  handsome  marble 
full-size  statues  of  Father  Matthew,  the  Apostle 
of  Temperance,  Charles  Carroll,  of  Carrollton, 
the  fearless  Signer,  Most  Rev.  John  Carroll, 
the  first  Archbishop  of  Baltimore,  and  Com 
modore  John  Barry,  the  illustrious  Wexford 
man,  who  so  ably  distinguished  himself  in  the 
American  naval  service.  Here,  also,  is  a  basal 
tic  column  from  the  Giant's  Causeway,  Ireland, 
duly  inscribed.  A  large  figure  of  Christopher 
Columbus  also  adorns  a  place  in  the  park,  pre 
sented  by  the  Italian  citizens.  A  fine  statue  in 
bronze  on  a  granite  pedestal  of  General  Meade 
is  an  attractive  feature. 

The  house  of  William  Penn  was  shown  us, 
which  we  viewed  with  curiosity  and  interest. 


100  SNAP  b'OTEti. 

It  is  certainly  a  relic,  and  well  prized  by  the 
State  bearing  the  good  old  Quaker's  name.  A 
statue  of  Jeanne  D'Arc  and  a  beautiful  marble 
of  Niobe  are  exquisite  pieces  of  art. 

Boating  on  the  river  is  a  most  pleasurable 
pastime,  and  I  think  much  time  could  be  happily 
spent  amid  these  scenes  of  sylvan  beauty.  The 
superb  Statehouse,  supplanting  the  historic 
one  which  held  the  cracked  bell  of  liberty  for 
so  many  years,  Wanamaker's  stores,  and  a 
thousand  other  objects  of  note,  were  seen  and 
talked  over  by  our  vigilant  little  band. 

At  7:30  p.  M.  we  took  the  Pennsylvania  line 
for  Baltimore,  dining  on  the  car,  with  mirth 
and  jollity  for  salt  and  spice.  At  9:45  we  were 
ushered  into  the  city  of  noble  Calvert,  and  were 
considerably  amused  when  searching  for  con 
veyances  to  the  Rennert  House.  Nothing  bet 
ter  than  old  rattletrap  hacks  were  presented, 
and  finally  our  party  was  divided  up  for  occu 
pancy  of  two  coupes  and  "  rattled  o'er  the  stony 
street,"  at  a  "two-forty  rate,"  to  our  destination. 
The  city  seemed  perfectly  still. 

Registering  at  the  Rennert,  we  were  assigned 
to  rather  pleasant  rooms,  and  retired  to  rest  at 
midnight.  The  ominous  mosquito  bar  envelop 
ing  the  couches  took  me  back  in  spirit  to  Stock 
ton,  California,  where  Julia  Weber  one  night 
kept  guard  over  my  slumbers  lest  the  "galley 


THE  CITY  OF  BROTHERLY  LOVE.  101 

nippers"  from  the  sloughs  invade  the  meshes 
of  the  netting  and  leave  me  "  without  eyes,"  as 
she  quaint!}7  expressed  it. 


CHAPTER  JX. 

A  VISIT  WITH  CARDINAL  GIBBONS. 

Saturday,  September  12. 

T^ARLY  bird  and  luckless  worm,  which  is 
-•-^  which  in  this  instance?  I  am  up  and 
prepared  for  breakfast,  when  a  friend's  card  ap 
pears,  so  I  repair  to  the  parlor  to  receive  Mr. 
A.  K.  Shriver,  who  kindly  welcomes  us  to  Bal 
timore,  then  telephones  to  Mr.  D.  J.  Foley  and 
other  friends.  The  rest  of  the  party  appearing, 
we  all  breakfast  together. 

Mr.  Foley  is  soon  presented,  and  I  am  cor 
dially  impressed  with  his  genial  manner,  which 
proclaims  at  once  friendship's  sacred  charm  of 
sincerity,  in  the  warmth  of  his  happy  greeting. 
His  kind  blue  eyes  recall  my  good  mother's 
gentle  features.  My  heart  quickens  at  sound 
of  his  cheery  voice,  and  his  felicitous  smile  is 
full  of  winning  trustfulness. 

Mr.  Mark  Shriver  is  next  introduced,  whom 
I  have  mentally  photographed  as  "a  man 
above  his  kind,"  a  loyal  friend,  a  brave  patriot, 
yet  tender  hearted  as  a  woman,  and  I  think 
the  picture  is  true. 

(102) 


A    VISIT  WITH  CARDINAL  GIBBONS.        103 

They  invite  us  to  go  upon  the  roof  of  the 
hotel  to  obtain  a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  city, 
which  we  do,  and  behold  the  beauteous  broad 
panorama  spread  before  us.  The  grand  sweep 
of  the  "  blue  Patapsco's  billowy  waves "  sug 
gests  majesty  and  power,  and  the  rich  splendor 
of  the  warm  September  sun  heightens  and 
brightens  the  vivid  scene.  Old  Fort  McHenry, 
directly  east  of  us,  is  a  relic  of  the  War  of  1812, 
as  everybody  knows  who  kens  of  the  circum 
stances  of  Francis  Scott  Key  producing  that 
deathless  song  of  the  nation, the  "Star-spangled 
Banner,"  and,  strange  to  remark,  to-day  is  the 
anniversary  of  the  great  fight;  flags  are  flying, 
processions  moving,  etc.,  but  for  a  city  the  place- 
looks  deserted. 

After  calling  attention  to  each  object  of  in 
terest,  the  gentlemen  conclude  that  we  might 
return  to  the  lower  world,  and  they  kindly  ac 
company  us  to  the  cathedral,  and  tender  a 
history  of  the  ancient  pile,  with  an  opportunity 
to  inspect  some  fine  old  paintings,  two  of  which 
were  presented  to  the  Baltimore  Cathedral  by 
one  of  the  kings  of  France.  The  ladies  of  the 
Altar  Society  are  in  attendance  and  politely 
reveal  to  our  admiring  eyes  the  elegant  vest 
ments  of  exquisitely  wrought  cloth  of  gold 
worn  by  the  dignitaries  of  the  church  during 
the  council,  and  other  items  of  lesser  interest. 


]04  SNAP  NOTES. 

The  interior  of  the  cathedral  casts  a  "dim 
religious  light"  that  seems  to  softly  press  the 
soul  to  pious  prayer.  The  space  around  the 
grand  altar  has  recently  been  enlarged,  and  a 
fine  piece  of  work  accomplished  overhead  in 
the  painting  of  the  transfiguration. 

From  the  edifice  we  were  led  to  the  residence 
of  His  Eminence  Cardinal  Gibbons,  and  pre 
sented  to  the  Primate  of  America,  In  the 
meantime  Thos.  Foley,  Mr.  F.'s  only  son,  had 
joined  the  party,  a  handsome  young  fellow, 
dark  and  dangerously  fascinating  to  the  young 
ladies  present. 

When  we  were  shown  into  the  reception 
'  room,  His  Eminence  entered  without  delay, 
saluting  us  most  kindly.  He  is  a  dignified 
gentleman,  of  uncommon  magnetic  power,  a 
student  of  rare  attainments,  whom  to  see  is  to 
love.  After  a  pleasant  chat,  during  which  he 
expressed  himself  as  happy  to  have  received 
us,  he  extends  his  hand  in  blessing,  we  each 
kiss  his  ring,  and  take  our  departure,  well 
pleased  with  the  audience  accorded  us  by  His 
Eminence,  through  Mr.  Foley's  thoughtfulness. 
Next  we  visit  the  German  Church  of  St.  Al- 
phonse,  which  interiorly  resembles  the  cathe 
dral  of  Boston.  Thence  we  are  escorted  to  the 
Visitation  Convent,  where,  for  the  first  time  in 
my  life,  I  converse  with  cloistered  nuns.  As 


A    VISIT  WITH  CARDINAL  GIBBONS.        105 

we  await  the  appearance  of  Sister  Benedicta, 
sister-in-law  of  both  Mr.  Foley  and  Mr.  Shriver, 
I  look  curiously  about  me.  The  small  recep 
tion  room  is  partitioned  from  the  hall  by  iron 
grating,  the  first  row  being  iron  bars,  placed 
perpendicularly,  and  about  the  thickness  of 
inch  pipe;  the  second  row  is  crossbarred.  It 
looks  to  me  the  most  prison-like  place  I  ever 
entered. 

My  surprise  is  soon  broken  when  a  happy 
nun  appears  at  the  double  "fencing,"  and  in 
cheerful  tones  exclaims:  ''Now,  whom  do  I 
know?  I'm  sure  this  is  Fannie  Miller!"  My 
start  of  astonishment  is  noticed,  and  I  am  in 
troduced  to  Sister  Benedicta,  who  cordially  wel 
comes  each  in  turn,  and,  with  the  Rev.  Moth 
er's  permission,  conveys  us  all  through  the 
convent,  which  I  was  most  desirous  of  visiting. 
Sister  Benedicta  Sanders  has  been  an  inmate  of 
this  abode  of  peace  for  over  forty  years,  during 
which  time  she  has  not  been  outside  of  the 
convent  walls,  yet,  strange  as  it  may  seem  to 
my  Protestant  friends,  she  is  a  bright,  intelli 
gent,  happy  woman,  a  successful  teacher,  an 
elocutionist  of  no  mean  order,  a  writer  of  abil 
ity  and  strength,  yet  an  humble  follower  of 
the  Master,  who  promises  reward  in  the  pres 
ent  time,  and  life  everlasting  hereafter,  to  those 
who  shall  leave  home  and  parents  and  friends 


106  SNA P  NOTES. 

to  follow  Him.  She  inquired  for  Marcella  A. 
Fitzgerald,  and  sent  her  messages  of  love.  I 
expect  to  call  again,  and  shall  enjoy  another 
visit,  never  yet  having  been  in  the  atmosphere 
of  learning  without  feeling  its  influence. 

We  return  to  lunch  at  the  Rennert,  and  dur 
ing  the  afternoon,  upon  Mr.  Shriver's  invita 
tion,  we  take  a  long,  enjoyable  drive  through 
the  park.  Without  doubt  Druid  Hill  is  the 
finest  park  I  have  seen.  Its  natural  advan 
tages  surpass  those  I  have  been  in — its  shady 
nooks  and  sunny  glades,  winding  driveways 
and  charming  views,  quaint  old  moss-covered 
trees  and  fragrant  mistletoe,  suggestive  of 
Druidic  rite,  and  the  extensive  green  lawn,  all 
cling  to  the  memory  in  hallowed  beauty. 

The  "Maryland"  House  of  the  Centennial 
has  been  removed  to  Druid  Hill  from  Phila 
delphia,  and  stands  upon  an  eminence,  com 
manding  a  picturesque  outlook. 

Upon  our  return  we  enter  and  inspect  the 
elegant  Jenkins  Memorial  Chapel — a  thing  of 
beauty  indeed.  It  is  built  of  gray  stone,  has 
valuable  insertions  of  art  for  windows,  an  ele 
gantly  carved  altar,  beautiful  pictures,  and  over 
all  an  air  of  perfect  finish,  which  harmonizes 
the  whole.  I  believe  Joseph  A.  Ford,  Esq.,  is 
our  representative  on  the  coast  of  the  family 
which  lias  erected  this  excellent  edifice. 


A    VISIT   WITH  CARDINAL  GIBBONS.         107 

Reaching  our  rooms  we  prepare  for  dinner, 
after  which  Mr.  S.  takes  Misses  Maud  and  Evie 
through  the  market,  which  they  enjoy,  and  to 
the  candy  stores.  We  retire  about  eleven,  very 
tired.  I  write  home  before  retiring. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ROSELAND  AND  EXNISCORTHY,  TYPICAL  SOUTH 
ERN  HOMES. 

Sunday,  September  13. 

v.  SHRIVER  took  us  to  the  German  Church 
this  morning,  after  which  he  got  a  carriage 
and  drove  us  to  Mrs.  Myer's  country  place,  "  Rose- 
land,"  to  spend  the  day.  Mrs.  Murphy  and 
Martin  went  to  Washington,  as  the  latter  is  due 
at  Georgetown,  and  his  mother  wishes  to  se 
cure  another  week's  outing  for  him  after  enter 
ing  his  name.  We  all  returned  in  the  even 
ing. 

"  Roselaiid  "  is  a  beautiful  spot,  about  nine 
miles  from  town,  a  typical  Southern  home,  that 
is  always  full  of  gay  company,  which  is  hos 
pitably  entertained — if  we  may  judge  by  our 
own  reception.  The  vast  lawn  in  front  of  the 
generous  porcli  is  smooth,  green,  and  pretty, 
edged  with  blooming  rose  trees. 

Here  I  met  friends  whose  names  are  familiar 
words,  Will  Myer,  for  instance,  of  whom  I  had 
heard  for  years  from  Mary  Foley,  and  to  whom 
she  was  afterwards  married.  I  judge  him  to  be 

(108) 


ROUE  LAND  AND  ENNISCORTHY.  109 

a  man  of  thorough  integrity,  modest  in  man 
ner,  talented,  and  kind.  The  young  ladies  of 
the  household  appeared  bright  and  jolly,  and 
fond  of  society. 

After  a  pleasant  day  we  turned  homeward, 
passing  Mt.  Hope  Retreat,  where  I  have  a  sick 
friend,  whom  I  shall  call  upon  ere  leaving 
Maryland. 

Monday,  September  14- 

Mr.  Foley  called  this  morning  about  eleven 
o'clock,  before  we  had  breakfasted,  and  re 
mained  with  us  almost  continuously.  He 
chartered  a  boat  and  took  us  down  the  river 
beyond  Fort  McHenry,  accompanied  by  his  son 
and  Mr.  Shriver,  to  view  the  city  from  the 
riverside,  and  we  could  ask  no  greater  enjoy 
ment  than  was  afforded  in  this  sail.  A  brisk, 
freshening  breeze  was  blowing,  and  Mr.  Foley's 
hat  was  swept  from  his  head  into  the  water. 
The  skipper  turned  his  boat  and  secured  the 
hat  with  a  dipping  net.  We  landlubbers  were 
pleased  to  place  foot  on  terra  jirma  after  the 
unique  little  voyage. 

We  next  ascended  the  stairways  to  the  dome 
of  the  courthouse,  whence  we  were  assured  an 
excellent  vista  awaited  us.  We  were  presented 

to  Mayor  Me ,  who,  like  a  new  college 

graduate,  seems  to  feel  his  weight  of  honors, 


110  SNAP  NOTES. 

and  looks  perfectly  conscious  of  his  new  title 
and  position. 

We  visited  the  art  gallery  of  Myer,  and 
Hadien's  store,  then  took  our  lunch,  and  pre 
pared  for  a  visit  to  "  Enniscorthy,"  Mr.  Foley's 
country  place. 

We,  as  Mr.  F.'s  guests,  took  the  B.  &  0. 
train  at  Camden  Station,  reaching  Ellicott  City 
in  half  an  hour,  and  ''Enniscorthy,"  six  miles 
further,  in  another  thirty  minutes.  The  views 
along  the  route  are  truly  beautiful;  the  stone 
bridges  are  perfect  pictures  to  me,  and  the  loca 
tion  at  Ilchester  of  the  house  of  the  Redemp- 
torist  Order  is  romantic  and  grand. 

We  met  Mr.  Frank  Murphy  on  the  train,  a 
delicate-looking,  refined  young  man,  connected 
with  the  publishing  house  bearing  his  familiar 
name.  He  is  summering  at  Ilchester. 

At "  Enniscorthy  "  we  were  received  by  Misses 
Lillie  and  Nannie  Foley,  and  their  aunt,  Miss 
Sanders,  who  very  cordially  greeted  us,  and 
hospitably  welcomed  our  coming.  Miss  Lillie 
is  somewhat  tall,  with  brown  eyes  and  Titian 
bronze  hair,  is  clever  of  speech,  intellectually 
bright,  with  an  independent  air,  and  ever  a 
kindly  Christian  spirit.  Miss  Nannie  is  of 
medium  height,  fair-haired,  with  "eyes  of  most 
unholy  blue,"  a  faultless  complexion,  sweet  in 
disposition,  and  the  Martha  of  the  household. 


ROSELAND  AND  ENNISCORTHY.  Ill 

Miss  Sanders,  their  gentle  aunt,  is  one  of  the 
sweetest  characters  I  ever  met,  and  completes, 
with  "little  Josephine,"  the  home  circle  of 
"Enniscorthy." 

Dinner  was  announced  at  six  o'clock,  and 
thereafter  the  evening  was  most  pleasantly 
beguiled  with  cards  and  music.  I  was  charm 
ingly  entertained  by  Miss  Lillie  with  an  ac 
count  of  her  travels  abroad  and  visit  to  Ober- 
ammergau  during  the  Passion  Play.  I  found 
her  an  exceedingly  interesting,  congenial  com 
panion,  what  Englishmen  call  "fetching"  in 
appearance,  but  not  particularly  pretty — one 
whom  I  think  to  know  is  to  learn  from.  We 
felt  perfectly  at  home  with  these  almost  new 
friends,  their  geniality  of  manner  superinduc 
ing  that  effect. 

"Enniscorthy"  is  in  Howard  County,  and  was 
originally  part  of  the  Carroll  demense,  but 
purchased  some  years  ago  by  Mr.  Foley  as  a 
country  summer  home  for  his  family,  which 
they  called  in  honor  of  his  birthplace  in  Wex- 
ford,  Ireland.  The  employes  are  all  colored 
people,  excepting  the  farmer  and  his  family 
who  have  charge  of  the  place.  The  household 
servants,  colored,  models  of  neatness,  are  sys 
tematic  in  their  manner  of  waiting  at  table, 
and  graceful  as  fawns. 

As  I  now  prepare  to  retire,  about  midnight, 


112  SNAP  NOTES. 

I  try  to  conjecture  "what  dreams  may  come," 
as  I  am  told  they  may  be  realized  when 
dreamed  under  a  strange  roof. 

Tuesday,  September  15. 

Awakened  by  the  bell,  we  rise  at  eight  o'clock, 
breakfast,  and  walk  around  the  farm.  During 
the  outing  I  find  many  varieties  of  fern  unlike 
our  native  Californians,  which  I  would  like  to 
transplant  to  Miller  Hall. 

Returning  to  the  house,  the  carriages  await 
us,  and  we  are  driven  to  Woodstock  College, 
the  novitiate  of  the  Jesuits,  a  most  enchanting 
woodland  home,  where  kind  Fr.  Sabbetti  takes 
great  pride  in  piloting  us  through  labyrinthian 
pathways  and  flower-girt  avenues,  to  inspect 
gardens  and  other  interesting  scenes  surround 
ing  the  lovely  site.  Fr.  Sabbetti  is  generous 
with  his  floral  beauties,  and  we  leave  at  mid 
day  rich  with  nature's  dainty  treasures — thor 
oughly  pleased  with  the  drive,  and  Woodstock 
charmed. 

Reaching  "Enniscorthy,"  we  are  met  by 
Nannie,  whose  sweet  face,  en  wreathed  in  smiles, 
cheers  our  way  to  luncheon,  after  which  lawn 
tennis  and  pitch ette  are  indulged  in.  Lillie 
invites  me  for  a  drive;  I  accept,  and  in  her 
cart  we  speed  away  to  St.  Charles  Seminary, 
through  which  she  unceremoniously  initiates 


ROSELAND  AND  ENNfSCORTHY.  113 

me,  introducing  me  to  Fr.  Griffin,  then  around 
the  grounds,  giving  snatches  of  its  history  as 
she  proceeds.  The  Sulpicians  here  and  Jesuits 
at  Woodstock  evince  taste  beyond  praise  in  the 
elegance  of  their  landscape  gardening  and 
neatly-arranged  pathways  and  hedges. 

From  St.  Charles  we  drive  to  Doughregan 
Manor,  the  summer  home  of  the  Carroll  family, 
who  are  now  in  Europe.  The  house  is  in  colo 
nial  style  of  architecture,  painted  white,  a  ver 
itable  home  of  comfort  and  beauty. 

Handing  over  our  equipage  to  the  care  of  an 
aged  negro,  wThom  I  understand  to  have  been 
an  attache  to  the-  servants'  staff  of  the  famous 
Signer,  we  wander  around  to  see  the  conserva 
tory  and  spacious,  neatly-kept  lawns,  the  fine 
old  trees,  beautifully-modeled  flower  plots,  and, 
not  least,  the  handsome  chapel,  where  I  note  a 
slab  of  marble  mosaicked  into  the  wall,  on  the 
gospel  side  of  the  altar  inscribed:— 

Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton, 
Born  Sep.  20th,  1737. 
Died  Nov.  14th,  1832. 

On  religious  occasions  in  the  slave  days  the 
body  of  this  chapel  was  filled  with  representa 
tives  of  the  dark  race  owned  by  the  Carrolls, 
the  pews  on  each  side  of  the  altar  being  re 
served  for  the  family  and  their  friends. 

It  was  a  novel  sensation  to  me  to  kneel  and 


s 


114  SNAP  NOTES 

pray  before  the  altar  upon  which  had  been  laid 
the  petitions  of  the  brave  hero  who  erected  this 
shrine  and  was  equally  faithful  to  his  country 
and  his  God. 

The  shades  of  gloaming  warn  us  of  the  neces 
sity  of  returning.  We  find  the  party  at  "En- 
niscorthy  "  engaged  in  a  game  of  croquet,  which 
occupies  the  moments  "'tween  the  gloamin' 
and  the  murk,"  until  dinner,  after  which  we 
enjoy  the  calm  evening  on  the  porch,  and 
cards  in  the  drawing  room.  Miss  Lillie  grouped 
us  for  a  picture  and  kodaked  us  by  flash  light. 

We  retire  with  the  memory  of  a  very  de 
lightful  day  to  soothe  our  eyes  to  slumber. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

SCENES  IN  GETTYSBURG. 

Wednesday,  September  16. 

left  the  lovely  scenes  of  "Enniscorthy  " 
this  morning  to  take  train  for  Baltimore, 
to  keep  an  engagement  with  two  friends.  Driv 
ing  with  Messrs.  Foley,  Jr.,  and  Shriver  to 
Ellicott  City,  heartily  imbibing  the  fresh  air, 
enjoying  the  hush  of  the  morning  stillness,  we 
reached  our  station  in  time,  but  the  train  was 
late.  We  arrived  in  Baltimore  at  10:30.  While 
awaiting  my  friends,  I  occupied  the  interim 
writing  to  the  dear  ones  at  home  an  account  of 
my  stay  at  Mr.  Foley 's. 

I  lunched  with  friends  and  enjoyed  the  fish 
menu  very  much.  My  cousins  joined  me  later. 
We  then  went  for  a  drive  over  Crimea  Hill,  a 
sequestered,  picturesque  driveway,  resembling 
our  Marin  County  mountain  roads,  through  an 
almost  primeval  forest,  where  I  secured  some 
ferns  to  send  home.  After  dinner  several 
friends  came  to  spend  the  evening  with  us, 
whose  society  we  enjoyed.  Retire  late,  very 
weary. 

(H5) 


116  SNAP  NOTES. 

Thursday,  September  17. 

Accompanying  a  friend,  and  armed  with  a 
letter  of  introduction  to  Sr.  Catherine,  Superior 
at  Mt.  Hope,  from  Mr.  Foley,  I  start  for  the  Re 
treat,  on  the  train.  In  twenty-five  minutes  we 
whirl  into  the  station,  at  the  hospital,  where  we 
have  an  invalid  friend,  whom  I  am  desirous  of 
seeing  ere  leaving  Baltimore,  and  have  taken 
occasion  to  call  to-day.  After  spending  a 
couple  of  hours  within  the  solitudes  of  this 
saddening  place,  we  returned,  reaching  the 
Rennert  at  midday. 

After  lunch  we  prepare  for  a  trip,  tendered 
us  by  Mr.  Shriver,  and  at  3:30  leave  for  Gettys 
burg  ma  the  Western  Maryland  Railroad,  arriv 
ing  in  the  famous  battle  burg  at  7:30.  Here 
we  are  lodged  at  the  City  Hotel,  the  best  the 
place  affords,  conducted  by  a  man  as  capacious 
of  build  and  size  as  John  L.  Sullivan.  His 
voice  is  as  sonorous  as  the  western  wind,  and 
he  glibly  assigns  the  ladies  to  two  rooms,  which 
boast  four  couches,  with  the  assurance  to  Evie 
that  if  she  rolls  out  of  the  window  her  fall  will 
be  broken  by  a  roof  several  feet  below— very 
comfortable  sensations  to  sleep  on. 

Mrs.  Murphy,  Maud,  and  Mr.  Tom  Foley 
have  just  returned  from  up  town,  where  our 
chaperon  laid  in  her  usual  supply  of  souvenir 


SCENES  IN  GETTYSBURG.  117 

cucharas.  She  presented  me  with  a  lovely 
orange  spoon.  I  note  its  characteristics,  kiss 
the  donor,  and  place  it  with  my  beauteous  col 
lection,  the  gift  of  the  same  generous  soul. 

Friday,  September  18. 

After  breakfasting,  we  wander  about  until 
ten  o'clock,  when  the  large,  convenient  carryall 
secured  by  our  entertainer  is  brought  up,  and 
we  seat  ourselves  within  its  comfortable  space 
to  view  the  scenes  of  the  bravely-fought  battle 
that  was  "to  decide  the  fete  of  human  liberty." 
It  is  a  very  warm,  sunny  day,  but  the  ride  is 
most  agreeable,  over  the  ground  of  the  first 
day's  contest.  To  our  left,  on  the  south  side, 
as  we  drive  over  Chambersburg  turnpike,  is 
seen  Cemetery  Ridge,  and  farther  still  Culp's 
Hill,  which  Longstreet  was  aiming  to  possess. 
Near  at  hand,  on  our  right,  is  a  yellow  build 
ing,  the  Seminary,  from  the  cupola  of  which 
General  Buford  took  observations  of  the  sur 
rounding  country.  It  gives  the  name  Semi 
nary  Ridge  to  the  elevation  upon  which  it 
stands. 

Taking  a  northerly  direction  from  the  turn 
pike  to  an  avenue,  on  our  right  is  shown  the 
line  of  battle,  the  position  of  the  Federal  troops 
being  commemorated  by  a  row  of  stately  mon 
uments,  white  marble,  granite,  and  other  valu 
able  stone  and  bronze  predominating.  Each 


i *>*  SNAP 

handsomely-wrought  design  signifies  where 
regiments  were  stationed  They  were  placed 
there  either  by  the  State  to  which  the  regiments 
belonged,  or  by  the  surviving  comrades,  under 
the  auspices  of  the  "Battlefield  Memorial  Associ 
ation."  Over  the  scene  of  cruel  carnage,  thirty 
miles  square,  there  are  already  four  hundred  of 
these  majestic  memorials,  with  many  more  in 
course  of  completion.  One  Confederate  shaft 
was  permitted  to  be  placed.  It  was  done  by 
the  State  of  Maryland. 

They  are  too  numerous  for  me  to  particular 
ize,  but  I  may  remark  the  spot  where  General 
Reynolds  was  killed,  whereon,  in  heavy  gray 
granite,  is  told  the  tale  of  his  fall,  supposed  to 
have  been  a  shot  from  an  ambushed  sharp 
shooter,  which  struck  him  in  the  eye  and  passed 
out  over  his  left  temple.  He  fell  from  his  horse 
and  his  neck  was  broken. 

We  pass  along,  reading  and  inspecting  mon 
uments,  until  our  eyes  are  weary  with  the 
white  glare  of  sunshine  on  the  marble.  We 
halt  at  the  spring  where  General  Lee's  soldiers 
lay  sick  on  the  second  day's  battle,  from  drink 
ing  the  waters,  which  were  supposed  to  have 
been  poisoned.  To  us  it  tasted  of  magnesia 
and  soda,  Little  wonder  that  the  poor  fellows 
became  ill,  in  the  scorching  heat  of  July's  rag 
ing  sun,  and  the  added  warmth  of  desperate 
conflict. 


SCENES  IN  GETTYSBURG.  119 


Making  the  circuit,  we  return  to  the  town 
about  noon,  having  pleasantly  and  instructively 
spent  a  forenoon  of  intense  interest.  Wander 
ing  around,  I  make  inquiries  respecting  the 
place,  and  am  informed  that  the  present  site  of 
Gettysburg  was  originally  the  property  of  Win. 
Perm,  but  about  17SO  came  into  the  possession 
of  a  man  named  Gettys,  who  divided  it  into 
town  lots,  and  called  it  after  himself,  "Gettys 
burg."  Entering  the  "Antiquarian  Store"  we 
are  shown  many  curios,  most  of  which  have 
been  picked  up  on  the  field,  among  them  a  Con 
federate  and  a  Federal  bullet  which  .met  in  the 
air  and  were  welded,  by  the  force,  into  one. 

Returning  to  the  hotel  we  lunch  and  prepare 
for  the  afternoon's  excursion.  Mr.  Herbert 
Shriver,  of  Union  Mills,  and  Mr.  Brown,  of 
Philadelphia,  drive  up  to  spend  the  day  with 
us,  and  after  lunch  join  us  in  the  coach,  when, 
with  a  competent  guide,  Mr.  Minnock,  we  start 
off  to  inspect  Cemetery  Ridge  and  the  entire 
stage  whereon  was  enacted  one  of  the  most 
bloody  dramas  of  the  war.  It  is  a  grand  ex 
cursion,  full  of  revelation,  instructive  and  beau 
tiful. 

Attention  is  directed  to  the  house  wherein 
Jennie  Wade  was  killed  by  a  shell  while  mak 
ing  bread.  We  soon  reach  the  cemetery.  It 
is  divided  in  the  center  by  a 


OF 

UHI7BESIT7 


120  8NA2J  NOTLS. 

On  the  left,  as  we  approach,  are  interred  the 
civilians,  the  right  side  being  reserved  for  the 
military  graves,  where  lie  hundreds  of  soldiers, 
many  of  them  with  blank  slabs  marking  the 
mound,  unknown,  but  of  course  not  unwept. 
A  New  York  State  monument  calls  attention, 
being  ninety-two  feet  high  and  costing  $5,000. 

The  cemetery  is  designed  in  a  semicircle 
running  north  and  south,  with  the  elegant  na 
tional  monument  in  the  center,  fashioned  after 
the  Immaculate  Conception  Monument  in 
Rome,  surmounted  by  the  Goddess  of  Liberty, 
and  four  handsome  figures  around  the  pedes 
tal  representing  Peace  (a  mechanic),  War  (a 
U.  S.  soldier),  History  (a  woman  sitting  with 
open  scroll  in  her  hand),  and  Plenty  (a  woman 
with  sheaves  of  wheat). 

We  drive  through  the  avenue,  and  alight 
from  our  carriage  to  walk  up  Cemetery  Hill, 
listening  as  the  guide  recites  the  story,  in  pa 
thetic,  aye,  poetic  language,  of  the  cruel  strife. 
He  points  out  the  almshouse,  which  we  had 
seen  in  the  morning,  and  mentions  young  Wil 
kinson,  who  amputated  his  own  shattered  limb 
with  his  sword,  dragged  himself  to  the  alms- 
house,  used  as  a  hospital,  but  died  next  morn 
ing,  after  a  night  of  insufferable  pain. 

The  Blue  Ridge  Mountains,  in  cerulean  tint, 
line  the  western  horizon,  and  the  valley  of  the 


SCENES  IN  GETTYSBURG.  121 

Cumberland  stretches  beyond  them.  The  broad 
battle  ground,  mapped  in  nature's  lines,  lies 
before  us.  The  charges  made  and  their  loca 
tion  are  all  carefully  rehearsed.  The  breast 
works  thrown  up  are  still  at  our  feet,  lessened 
and  rounded  by  time.  Cannons  rest  here  and 
there,  their  brazen  mouths  closed,  their  deadly 
work  done.  The  dauntless  "Louisiana  Ti 
gers,"  under  Hays,  here  did  splendid  work,  but, 
laboring  under  great  disadvantages,  were  finally 
repulsed.  It  is  recorded  that  on  this  spot  was 
fought  one  of  the  most  frenzied  hand-to-hand 
struggles  of  the  three  days'  carnage.  Gulp's 
Hill  stands  serenely  to  the  southeast,  in  wooded 
beauty  and  unforgotten  glory. 

We  reenter  the  vehicle,  and,  following  the 
Emmitsburg  Pike,  are  shown  the  scene,  on  our 
right,  of  "  Pickett's  Charge,"  the  great  and  mar 
velous  piece  of  determined  bravery  of  the  war. 
Gallantly  charging  the  Union  lines  across  a 
field  a  mile  broad,  under  a  hurricane  of  shot 
and  shell,  the  brave  column  swept  grandly  on 
ward,  until  mowed  down  in  its  advance  by  the 
withering  blast  of  belching  musketry  concen 
trated  on  its  chivalrous  front.  The  repulse 
was  complete,  and'but  a  handful  of  men  who 
participated  in  this  fearful  attack  survived. 

Passing  by  the  peach  orchard  mentioned  in 
history,  which  has  been  twice  planted  since  the 


1*2  SNAP  NOTES, 

war,  we  come  to  grain  tields,  and  finally  are 
wending  our  way  over  the  serpentine  road  of 
Gulp's  Hill,  whence  we  are  soon  led  into  the 
"  Devil's  Den,"  a  wild,  tumbled  lot  of  bowlders, 
evidently  massed  by  a  convulsion  of  nature, 
with  a  crystalline  stream  issuing  from  their 
cavernous  depths.  Dismounting  we  view  the 
uncanny  spot  with  curiosity.  It  was  an  excel 
lent  cover  for  the  lurking  sharpshooter,  and 
our  guide  informs  us  that  among  the  clump  of 
rocks  fell  many  wounded  soldiers,  who  lay  un 
discovered  for  days.  He  showed  us  where  the 
bones  of  a  Georgia  soldier  still  lie,  a  kindly 
hand  having  lately  covered  them  with  earth. 

Barefooted,  ragged  children  emerge  from  the 
broken  ddbris  with  cupfuls  of  the  clear  water, 
which  they  offer — not  in  His  name— but  for  the 
material  reward  cheerfully  granted  by  the 
bevy  of  visitors,  who  feel  the  effects  of  Septem 
ber's  ardent  sun 

Pursuing  our  way  towards  the  Round  Tops, 
over  a  beautifully  designed  road  shaded  by  oak 
and  hickory  trees,  we  suddenly  appear  before 
a  large  Irish  cross  in  granite,  with  the  Irish 
wolf  lying  at  its  base,  in  bronze,  the  monument 
of  the  "  69th  Irish  Regimen t,"marking  the  place 
where  mass  was  said  for  the  regiment  before 
the  second  day's  battle,  when,  as  the  priest 
raised  his  hand  in  blessing  on  the  kneeling 


IN  GETTYSBURG,  I-,M 

Boldiers,  the  word,  "Forward!"  came  from  Gen 
eral  JCelly,  and  instantly  ranks  were  formed, 
and  the  men  in  battle  line,  ready  for  action.  I 
am  proud  of  my  Irish  and  my  Faith! 

The  roadway  leads  to  Spangler's  Springs,  and 
we  drink  of  the  water  that  supplied  both  armies 
with  refreshment  during  the  contest.  Round 
Top  reached  we  again  alight,  and  view  the  vast, 
graveyard-like  valley,  bristling  with  shafts  of 
marble  and  granite. 

Here  Mr.  Minnock  explains  the  movements 
and  incidents  of  the  second  and  third  days' 
battles,  interesting  to  hear,  but  not  readily 
understood  by  one  possessed  of  as  limited  knowl 
edge  of  warfare  as  I  may  claim.  The  trees 
hereabouts,  scarred  and  bullet-wounded,  show 
the  effects  of  the  hot  fire  poured  into  their 
midst,  some  lying  prone  upon  the  ground,  fall 
ing  to  decay,  shelled  by  enemies  not  their  own. 
On  Little  Round  Top  I  note  a  life-size  figure 
in  bronze  of  General  Warren,  who  saved  the 
"Round  Tops." 

Descending  to  the  flat  country  we  follow  the 
stone  wall  road  to  a  spot  hallowed  by  a  scroll 
of  marble,  where  General  Hancock  anxiously 
kept  watch  of  the  day's  movements  and  vicissi 
tudes,  directing  his  men,  without  once  losing 
patience  This  is  near  what  is  termed  "the 
bloody  angle,"  when  the  third  day's  battle 


124  SNAP  NOTES. 

swept  out  regiments  of  the  confederacy,  every 
inch  of  the  air  being  black  with  the  winged 
missiles  of  death.  The  battle  closed  on  the  4th 
of  July,  1863,  after  three  days  of  mortal  strife. 
General  Lee,  than  whom  no  braver  soldier  held 
a  sword,  disheartened  and  discouraged,  with 
drew  beyond  the  distant  Blue  Ridge,  and  passed 
a  wretched  night  and  day  in  sadness,  his  men 
sick,  weary,  and  footsore. 

Now,  my  diary,  there  is  much  that  I  could 
not  sufficiently  grasp  to  properly  place  in  your 
keeping, and  mayhapsl  have  become  wearisome 
relating  what  everybody — but  myself — already 
knew.  However,  as  I  never  saw  the  "Pano 
rama  of  Gettysburg,"  and  never  had  entertained 
an  idea  of  the  magnitude  of  the  battle  until 
now,  I  may  be  excused  for  jotting  down  the 
items  that  arrested  my  interest. 

Returning  ma  Hancock  Avenue  to  Gettys- 
berg,  we  dine  at  the  City  Hotel,  and  Mr.  Shriver 
provides  two  carriages  for  our  conveyance  to 
Emmittsburg,  which  ancient  little  city  we  set 
out  for  at  6:30  P.  M.  We  arrive  in  Emmitts 
burg,  ten  miles  distant,  about  nine  o'clock,  and 
are  booked  at  a  hotel  sans  name,  managed  on 
rather  primitive  plans.  Retiring  about  ten 
o'clock,  very  tired,  we  gladly  welcome  balmy 
sleep. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    CITY    OF    EMMITTSBURG;  THE   OLD    HOME 
STEAD  AT  "UNION  MILLS." 

September  19. 

RISING  with  the  break  of  dawn,  and  break 
fasting  early,  we  are  free  to 'stroll  about 
and  see  the  peculiarities  of  the  town.  It  is  an 
old-fashioned,  quiet  place.  The  people  are 
lazy-looking,  and  the  streets  are  dirty  and  much 
in  need  of  sidewalks.  The  stores  are  like  the 
little  country  shops  of  suburban  towns  in  Cali 
fornia.  The  houses  look  old,  many  of  them 
dilapidated,  and  the  hotel  fare  is  miserable. 

Mr.  Shriver's  sister-in-law,  with  her  son  and 
daughter,  call  to  see  us,  and  conduct  us  to  the 
Convent  of  St.  Euphemia,  near  the  parish 
church,  to  see  some  of  its  inmates  who  are 
Californians.  They  are  delighted  to  see  us,  and 
truly  royal  in  their  earnest  welcome  to  pilgrims 
from  the  West.  They  accompanied  us  to  Mt. 
St.  Joseph's,  founded  in  1815  by  Mother  Seton, 
and  the  entire  building  was  thrown  open  for 
our  inspection. 


(125) 


126  SNAP  NOTES. 

Our  admiration  of  the  elegant  convent,  a 
retreat  of  repose,  embowered  by  majestic  trees, 
in  the  heart  of  a  broad  green  lawn,  is  indeed 
beyond  expression.  Its  health-giving  resources, 
large,  excellently  ventilated  rooms,  spacious 
grounds,  beautiful  gardens,  with  perfect  clean 
liness  and  order  throughout,  are  attractions  to 
which  we  yield  unbounded  homage.  The 
chapel  is  exquisite  in  its  finish  and  furnishings. 
A  beautiful  shrine  in  the  garden  marks  the 
resting  place  of  Mother  Seton,  and  beside  her 
have  been  placed  the  remains  of  the  late  Arch 
bishop  Bailey,  her  kinsman.  Near  by  is  the 
house  she  erected,  where  she  lived,  taught,  led 
others  to  life  everlasting,  and  died.  Mr.  Shriv- 
er's  mother,  now  aged  eighty-three,  is  one  of  the 
original  fifteen  pupils  taught  in  this  small 
schoolhouse,  by  Mother  Seton,  in  1815. 

Bidding  adieu  to  our  gentle  friends,  we  are 
taken  by  our  host  to  Mt.  St.  Mary's  Seminary 
and  College,  where  Fr.  Allen  is  pastor  and 
Superior.  The  drive  hither  is  pleasant  and  the 
approach  to  the  college  beautiful.  It  is  the 
institution  which  has  reared  the  most  gigan 
tic  minds  in  American  church  history,  and  I 
am  happy  to  be  privileged  to  inspect  it.  The 
paintings  are  ancient  and  elegant,  the  college  of 
a  superior  standard  of  learning,  and  its  situation 
romantic  and  isolated,  on  a  hillside  covered 


THE  CITY  OF  EMMTTTSBURG.  127 

with  evergreen  shrubbery  and  beautiful  trees. 
Registering  in  the  President's  Visitors'  Book, 
after  a  tour  through  the  halls  and  grounds  of 
the  old  college,  we  take  our  course  towards 
"  Haylands,"  the  home  of  Mr.  Wm.  Shriver. 

A  short  distance  from  Mt.  St.  Mary's,  I  note 
"Clearlands,"  the  old  home  of  the  Shorb  family. 
The  house,  constructed  of  gray  stone,  low  in 
stature,  homelike  in  appearance,  stands  upon  a 
knoll  in  bold  command  of  a  complete  view  of 
"Emmittsburg"  and  the  surrounding  country. 
Weed-grown  and  neglected,  the  old  home  and 
birthplace  of  chivalrous  Dr.  Shorb,  one  of  Cal 
ifornia's  favorite  adopted  sons,  rests  firmly  on 
its  foundations.  Its  once- honored  inmates 
have  passed  away;  old  associations  have  van 
ished;  the  music  of  their  joy  is  hushed  forever, 
yet  the  staunch,  enduring  stone  remaineth. 

At  "Haylands"  we  lunch,  spend  a  pleasant 
hour,  then  hasten  to  the  train  for  Westminster, 
en  route  for  "Union  Mills."  Traveling  through 
part  of  Pennsylvania,  the  trip  is  enjoyable  and 
the  route  pretty.  Quaintly-attired  Quakers 
board  the  cars,  carrying  baskets  of  flowers  and 
fruit. 

With  evening's  lengthening  shadows  we 
reach  Westminster,  and  from  the  depot  are 
conveyed  in  carriages  to  "  Union  Mills,"  six 
miles  distant.  On  the  train  from  Baltimore 


128  SNAP  NOTES. 

Mr.  Herbert  Shriver  was  accompanied  by  Rev. 
Fr.  Grannan,  professor  of  philosophy  at  the 
Catholic  University  of  Washington,  who  is 
coming  to  "the  Mills"  for  the  purpose  of  con 
ducting  religious  service  in  the  private  chapel 
of  the  Shriver  family. 

About  dusk  we  arrive  in  sight  of  the  old 
homestead,  and  I  mark  the  air  of  restful  com 
fort  which  invites  one  to  repose  and  peace 
within  the  sweet  precincts  of  hospitality's  arms, 
spread  open  over  scenes  as  fresh  and  fair  as 
morning's  face.  At  the  gate  we  are  greeted  by 
the  Misses  Shriver  and  their  venerable  lady 
mother,  who  has  the  soft,  low  voice  that  poets 
love.  Gently  inviting  us  to  remove  our  hats 
and  wraps,  we  are  led  to  rooms  that  repeat  the 
atmosphere  of  ease  everywhere  breathed  in  this 
charming  home. 

Dinner  is  soon  announced,  and  the  dining 
hall  fills  with  guests,  ready  to  enjoy  a  most 
generous  and  delicious  menu,  and  each  other's 
genial  society.  The  meal  concluded  we  are 
accompanied  across  the  turnpike  to  the  mill 
race,  and  treated  to  a  most  romantic  and  en 
joyable  boat  sail.  Stepping  into  the  little 
shallop  from  a  picturesque,  rustic  bridge,  span 
ning  the  stream  'neath  the  umbrageous 
branches  of  a  weeping  willow,  we  are  rowed 
by  master  hands  in  the  art,  up  the  winding 


THE  CITY  OF  EMMITTSBURQ.  129 

rivulet,  cheered  by  voices  in  sweet  song.  It  is 
a  beautiful  evening,  and  as  we  glide  along, 
round  curves  and  shallows,  the  spirit  of  merri 
ment  rules  the  hour.  Right  here  Evie  thought 
she  had  encountered  her  kismet,  but  there  was 
"a  difference  in  the  morning  "  ! 

As  we  stroll  back  to  the  house  of  our  hostess, 
I  inquire  about  it,  and  the  reason  of  the  title 
"Union  Mills,"  and  am  informed  that  the  an 
cestors  of  the  possessors  of  this  property  ob 
tained  it  in  1797,  engaging  in  the  milling  bus 
iness,  and  by  united  exertion  in  the  management 
of  flour  and  grist  mills  and  a  successful  saw 
mill,  they  designated  their  combined  property 
as  "  Union  Mills,"  which  name  is  retained. 
The  home  of  our  entertainers  was  built  in  1828, 
and  is  a  commodious  dwelling,  located  near  the 
turnpike,  and  almost  encompassed  by  neatly- 
cropped  lawns  and  selected  shade  trees,  among 
which  I  was  shown  a  specimen  of  {he  mahog 
any,  the  only  one  I  have  ever  seen. 

Retiring  about  eleven,  I  enjoy  somnolent  re 
pose,  my  mind  replete  with  "a  picture  on  the 
brain." 

,  Sunday,  September  20. 

At  half  past  seven  we  are  in  the  prayer- 
inspiriting  little  chapel,  attending  the  divine 
office,  celebrated  by  Fr.  Grannan,  being  served 


130  SNAP  NOTES. 

by  Mr.  Herbert  Shriver  and  his  little  son  Jo 
seph,  whose  grandmother  walked  up  to  the  rail 
ing  to  receive  the  blessed  sacrament  as  spryly 
as  the  young  people,  although  eighty-three  win 
ters  have  left  their  snows  upon  her  head. 

The  holy  services  ended,  we  repair  to  the 
breakfast  room  for  our  morning  meal,  and  dis 
cuss  an  excellent  repast.  Enjoying  the  lovely 
day  we  saunter  about,  and  climb  the  lawn- 
covered  slope  to  "Avalon,"  the  home  of  Mr.  B. 
F.  Shriver,  and  are  introduced  to  his  interest 
ing  family.  Glancing  down  from  the  porch  of 
his  handsome  residence,  a  fine  sweep  of  coun 
try  is  overseen,  with  a  living  stream  meander 
ing  through  the  center,  which  I  am  told  is  Big 
Pipe  Creek,  so  called  from  the  custom  of  the 
Indians  to  smoke  the  calumet  on  its  banks.  A 
stroll  "  down  by  the  old  mill  stream,"  another 
cheery  row  on  its  sparkling  waters,  and  the 
hours  roll  on  to  midday,  when  we  lunch. 

Another  outing  directs  our  wanderings  to  a 
substantial  stone  bridge  over  the  creek,  whose 
graceful  arches  mirrored  in  the  stream  claim 
my  longing  wish  to  sketch,  and  what  a  pretty 
picture  I  would  have !  This  bridge  was  con 
structed  in  1807,  and  has  nobly  withstood 
storm  and  tempest  for  more  than  eighty  years. 
We  were  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  mill 
ing  flour,  which  is  an  interesting  process,  but, 


THE  CITY  OF  EMMITTSBVRG.  131 

although  a  Miller  born  rr^self,  I  am  not  compe 
tent  of  penning  the  result  of  to-day's  schooling 
in  the  art  which  causes  man  to  appreciate  the 
moisture  "of  his  brow." 

I  have  been  feeling  ill  all  this  afternoon,  my 
old  annoyance,  neuralgia,  troubling  me,  so  I 
seek  the  charms  of  repose.  Mr.  A.  K.  Shriver 
took  the  party  out  driving,  and  they  express 
great  delight  and  pleasure  with  the  cruise  of 
enjoyment  afforded  them. 

At  four  o'clock  p.  M.  we  attended  benediction 
of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  given  by  Fr.  Grennan, 
and  the  remainder  of  the  day  passes  pleasantly 
away.  Maud,  spicily  amusing  herself  with  a 
callow  youth  from  across  the  pike,  is  an  au 
dible  goddess  of  laughter — was  there  ever  an 
other?  Evalyn  is  engaged  with  me,  admir 
ing  the  exquisite  handicraft  of  Miss  Mollie 
.  liriver,  beautifully  en  wrought  on  the  altar 
clo'hs,  vestments,  and  other  articles  belonging 
to  the  chapel,  which  evinces  the  devout  spirit  of 
the  gentle  toiler  whose  fair  hands  accomplished 
all  th:s  dainty  artistic  work.  After  tea,  which 
is  indeed  supper,  we  repair  to  the  parlor,  bid 
ding  moments  speed  on  the  wings  of  sweet 
harmony.  Nearing  the  witching  hour  o'  mid 
night  we  claim  Morpheus  as  our  king. 

Monday,  September  21. 

After  hearing  mass  celebrated  for  a  deceased 


13  SNAP  NOTES. 

member  of  tlie  family,  we  breakfasted,  bade 
adios  to  the  kind,  hospitable  friends  of  "Union 
Mills,"  whose  voices  in  our  "  echoing  hearts  a 
sound  must  long  remain,"  and  take  carriages 
for  Westminster,  to  meet  the  Baltimore  train, 
Fr.  Grennan  accompanying  us. 

Rolling  into  Baltimore  at  eleven  o'clock,  we 
soon  meet  Messrs.  Foley,  Senior  and  Junior, 
who  kindly  come  to  hail  our  return,  and  with 
them  we  do  a  round  of  shopping,  lunching 
at  the  Rennert,  and  at  4:45  take  the  train 
for  Washington,  D.  C.  Over  an  excellently 
balanced  road  we  rapidly  speed,  snatching 
glimpses  of  wood-embossed  valleys,  dimpled 
hills,  and  brawling  streams,  and  reaching 
Washington  at  6:30  p.  M.,  as  the  gray  curtains 
of  dusk  begin  to  droop. 

Taking  apartments  at  the  Arlington,  a 
splendid  hotel,  we  are  again  satisfactorily  sit 
uated,  and  prepare  to  acknowledge  a  bevy  of 
letters  from  home,  which  anticipated  our  arrival. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

MOUNT  VERNOtf. 

Tuesday,  September  22+ 

THIS  morning,  at  ten  o'clock,  we  board  the 
Chax.  McAlester,  a  pretty  little  steamer 
that  floats  down  the  Potomac  like  a  bird,  for 
Mt.  Yernon.  The  day  is  extremely  warm,  yet 
we  imbibe  the  beauty  of  the  scenery  on  both 
banks  of  the  river,  over  which  hangs  in  dreamy 
languor,  a  glamour  of  soft  haze.  At  11:30  Mt. 
Yernon  heights  are  seen,  and  we  set  foot  on  the 
landing,  canopied,  and  beautified  by  Mrs. 
Hearst,  the  Regent  for  California. 

Pursuing  our  way  up  the  slope,  we  reach  the 
tomb  of  our  first  President,  and  reverently  note 
its  most  salient  characteristics;  thence,  follow 
ing  the  path,  we  inspect  the  mansion,  the 
rooms  and  furniture,  so  patriotically  reclaimed 
from  the  ruining  possession  of  idle  time  by  the 
stout-hearted  women  of  America. 

The  view  from  the  veranda  of  the  mansion 
is  a  picture  for  Bierstadt's  brush.  The  blue 
waters  of  the  almost  national  river  sweep 

(133) 


134  SNAP  NOTES. 

smoothly  by,  bearing  stately  vessels  on  their 
tide,  that  salute  with  flying  flag  and  tolling 
bell  this  site  of  beauty  and  renown.  The  men 
tal  impulse  to  indulge  in  dreamy  retrospective 
pleasure  is  peculiarly  strong  when  standing 
upon  the  ground  where  lived  and  died  the 
noble  hero  of  American  history,  who  gazed 
upon  the  charming  scenes  we  now  view  admir 
ingly,  and  with  sincere  desire  to  preserve  in  the 
"amber  of  memory."  Mrs.  Murphy  had  our 
group  photographed  on  the  lawn,  with  the 
mansion  for  a  background.  It  is  a  neat 
souvenir  of  the  lovely  place. 

Leaving  Mt.  Vernon  at  1:30  we  steam  up 
the  river,  passing  by  Alexandria,  the  "  city  of 
ruins,"  where  we  are  shown  the  house  wherein 
Colonel  Ellsworth,  the  first  victim  of  the  Re 
bellion,  was  killed;  also  old  Christ  Church,  in 
which  Washington  was  vestryman.  I  must 
note  that  in  Alexandria  Washington  cast  his 
first  vote,  in  1754,  and  his  last,  in  1799.  It  is  a 
city  of  memories,  for  "'tis  a  city  of  ruins." 

As  we  approach  the  metropolis,  the  Wash 
ington  Monument,  standing  in  its  towering 
might  of  five  hundred  and  fifty -five  feet,  looks 
majestic  and  grand,  reflected  for  a  mile  in  the 
dimpling  waters  of  the  Potomac.  The  'capitol 
also  is  an  imposing  structure  seen  from  the 
river, 


MOUNT   VERNON.  135 

Having  lunched  on  the  boat,  a  miserable 
meal,  we  have  time  to  drive  around  the  city 
and  shop.  Evie  is  ailing  under  the  oppressive 
heat  of  the  day.  Martin  and  Maud  attend  the 
theater. 
Wednesday,  September  *23. 

Accompanied  Mrs.  M.  on  a  shopping  tour, 
and  then  to  Georgetown  College,  to  leave  Mar 
tin.  The  town  is  not  a  particularly  pretty 
place,  the  university  being  perhaps  the  chief 
building  of  prominence,  and  I  am  told  it  is  the 
object  which  gives  the  town  note.  It  is  a  hand 
some  gray  stone  structure,  formidable -looking 
and  somewhat  suggestive  of  pictures  I  have 
seen  of  the  new  Catholic  university,  which  I 
expect  to  view  later.  Fr.  Richards  took  us  all 
through  the  fine  establishment,  and  we  obtained 
a  pretty  view  of  Virginia  across  the  river, 
Arlington  Heights,  formerly  the  Lee  plantation, 
Roselands,  and  the  monument,  etc.,  etc.  George 
town  is  now  called  Western  Washington,  so 
closely  does  it  hug  the  once  more  distant  city. 

Driving  back  to  W ,  we  find  several  friends 
at  the  hotel  awaiting  us.  After  dinner  with 
them,  they  escort  us  for  a  walk,  showing  us  the 
different  public  buildings,  etc. 

Thursday,  September  2  4- 
The  Messrs.  H.  and  A.-K.Shriver  called  this 


136  SNAP  NOTE3. 

morning,  and,  having  secured  a  three-seated 
carriage,  drove  us  to  the  Soldiers'  Home  and 
Catholic  university,  around  by  Ecklands,  which 
was  an  excursion  of  most  pleasing  reminiscences. 
At  the  university  we  were  presented  to  Bishop 
Keane,  the  "  silver-tongued  orator  "  of  the  Cath 
olic  pulpit.  He  is  a  man  of  most  attractive 
address,  and  with  whom  I  am  particularly 
charmed.  Here,  too,  we  met  Fr.  Grannan,  who 
kindly  afforded  us  the  pleasure  of  an  insight  of 
the  elegant  college  interior  throughout — a  priv 
ilege  enjoyed  through  our  escorts,  Dr.  Grannan's 
friends,  and  for  which  we  are  deeply  indebted. 
The  magnificent  buildings-  stand  on  a  high 
knoll  in  bold  relief,  trees  girting  the  base  of 
the  eminence,  and  the  broad  front  of  the  mass 
ive  structure  is  almost  as  enduring  in  strength 
as  the  truths  taught  within  its  granite  walls. 

After  lunching  at  the  Arlington,  I  was  invited 
to  see  the  Botanical  Gardens  and  Smithsonian 
Institute,  all  of  which  I  heartily  enjoyed.  After 
dinner  we  all  went  for  a  walk,  and  Mr.  S.  left 
for  Baltimore  on  an  evening  train. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  CAPITOL  AT  WASH IN(. TON. 

September  '25. 

A  FTER  our  matutinal  meal,  we  call  for  a 
-*-*-  carriage  and  go  to  the  capitol,  hire  a 
guide,  and  see  the  entire  interior  of  the  won 
derful  building,  the  paintings,  frescoing,  and 
statuary,  all  of  a  high  order  of  art.  In  the 
old  Hall  of  Representatives  stands  Vinnie 
Ream's  statue  of  Lincoln,  for  which  the 
talented  little  woman  received  from  the  gov 
ernment  ten  thousand  dollars.  It  is  a  fine 
piece  of  work.  Bierstadt's  picture  of  Monterey 
is  not  up  to  my  idea  of  the  artist's  possibilities. 
Henry  Hudson  discovering  the  river  is  a  finely 
conceived  poem  on  canvas.  The  large  fresco 
piece  "  Westward  the  Course  of  Empire  Takes 
Its  Way,"  illustrating  the  rugged  road  to  Cali 
fornia  in  1848,  is  excellent.  The  Golden  Gate 
beneath,  with  dear  old  Marin's  rocky  cliffs  pro 
jecting  over  their  water-washed  base,  is  familiar 
as  sunlight. 

The    United  States  Senate  chamber  is  very 
handsome,   and    the    United    States   Supreme 

(137) 


138  SNAP  NOTES. 

Court  room  is  plainer  but  serious  looking.  The 
President's  room,  where  he  signs  the  bills  passed 
by  Congress,  is  especially  beautiful,  the  fresco 
ing  elegant.  The  lobby  is  interesting,  and,  oh, 
if  its  walls  could  speak !  We  tried  the  acoustic 
properties  of  the  old  Hall  of  Representatives, 
where  stands  Franzoni's  clock,  and  were  inter 
ested  and  amused.  Next  we  visited  the  "  Gold 
Room,"  where  the  speaker  of  the  House  re 
ceives  his  friends.  The  lobby  here  is  lined 
with  portraits  of  ex -speakers,  most  prominent 
of  whom  is  James  G.  Elaine. 

The  rotunda  regained  we  pass  out.  Imme 
diately  in  the  center  of  the  rotunda  is  a  bit  of 
white  marble,  marking  the  spot  where  is  placed 
in  state  the  bier  holding  the  remains  of  the 
nation's  honored  dead.  Here  rested  the  pall  of 
Lincoln,  Garfield,  Grant,  and  others. 

Leaving  the  capitol,  we  take  our  way  to  the 
Monument  and  ascend  in  the  elevator  to  the 
summit,  five  hundred  feet;  the  other  fifty-five 
feet  are  above  us.  This  monument  was  eleven 
years  building.  It  stands  on  the  Potomac's 
edge  and  commands  a  matchless  view  of  the 
river.  In  the  elevator  were  about  thirty  per 
sons,  and  we  were  nearly  smothered  in  the 
crowd,  being  as  closely  packed  as  sardines  in  a 
can. 

Visiting  the  Corcoran  Art  Gallery,  I  was  de- 


THE  CA  PI  TO  L  A  T  WA  S  HI  NO  TON.  1 39 

lighted  to  see  an  original  Paul  Veronese,  repre 
senting  a  scene  in  the  "Passion  of  Christ."  I 
enjoyed  the  handsome  pictures  and  statuary 
groups  very  much. 

I  feel  very  tired  and  ill,  possibly  the  result  of 
the  sultry  weather  and  unusual  walking  in 
doors,  which  is  wearisome  to  me.  Received 
letters  from  home,  which,  of  course,  were  like 
dear  friends'  faces,  welcome  and  pleasing. 

Saturday,  September  %6. 

Am  very  uncomfortable  to-day;  the  sultry 
warmth  is  exceedingly  depressing,  and  a  fever 
ish,  malarial  feeling,  most  unwelcome,  to  say 
the  least,  is  asserting  itself.  Rousing  myself 
from  the  languorous  influence,  I  go  out  shop 
ping  with  Mrs.  Murphy,  and  purchase  gifts  for 
my  California  friends.  My  cousin  friend  selects 
Mt.  Vernoii  and  Washington  spoons,  that  are 
art  studies  of  beauty,  and  with  the  late  addition 
of  Baltimore,  Enniscorthy,  and  Union  Mills 
souvenir  spoons,  my  collection  from  Mrs.  Mur 
phy  is  constantly  enlarging. 

Returned  to  the  Arlington  overheated  and 
ailing.  On  an  evening  train  from  Baltimore 
Mr.  A.  K.  Shriver  arrived,  and  after  dinner 
took  Misses  Maud  and  Evie  and  myself  for  a 
jaunt  through  the  park,  through  the  grounds 
of  the  White  House,  and  elsewhere.  Martin 


T7HI7BRSITr] 


140  SNAP  NOTES. 

attended  his  mother  on  her  return  from  the  col 
lege  and  gayly  greets  us  as  we  enter  the  hotel. 
He  is  enthusiastic  in  praise  of  Georgetown,  and 
I  think  will  take  due  advantage  of  the  oppor 
tunity  here  afforded  towards  a  liberal  education. 
Now  a  care-free,  good-hearted,  unaffectedly 
humorous  young  man,  the  outlook  of  his  future 
is  excellent  under  the  regime  of  Georgetown, 
after  which  there  is  much  to  be  expected. 

Sunday,  September  27. 

We  all  attend  mass  at  St.  Matthew's  Church, 
Rev.  Dr.  Chappelle,  the  bishop  elect  of  Albu 
querque,  New  Mexico,  offering  up  the  Holy 
Sacrifice,  arid  preaching  a  farewell  sermon  to 
his  flock,  during  which  he  is  tearfully  affected. 
For  the  first  time  since  leaving  California  Maud 
succumbs  to  climatic  influence,  and  almost 
faints  in  church.  It  is  very  warm  and  sunny. 

At  nine  o'clock  we  take  our  breakfast,  and 
retire  to  our  rooms  to  write  letters,  Mr.  S.  leav 
ing  for  Baltimore,  and  the  happy  "tease," 
Martin,  returning  to  Georgetown.  The  oppress 
ive  heat  has  almost  prostrated  me.  Am  un 
able  to  withstand  much  heat,  having  once  been 
partially  sunstruck. 

Mrs.  Edward  Martin,  of  California,  is  at  this 
hotel  with  her  sons,  students  of  Georgetown. 

After  an  outing  we  retire,  with  our  windows 


THE  CAPITOL  AT  WASH[NGTOtf.  141 

wide  agape,  mosquitoes  lively  and  hungry,  and 
the  air  heavy  and  hot.  We  find  rest  a  wished- 
for  thing  with  which  we  are  not  to  be  blessed. 

Monday,  September  28. 

After  returning  from  the  breakfast  room  I 
feel  indisposed  and  unrefreshed.  Dr.  Wales — 
beg  pardon,  no  kinsman  to  the  prince — has 
been  sent  for,  and  his  orders  are  for  rest  and 
sleep,  neither  of  which  I  may  justly  claim  while 
traveling.  However,  I  remain  for  the  day  in 
my  room,  as  close  as  I  can  reach  his  advice. 
Am  very  much  fatigued,  the  effects  of  immod 
erate  walking,  to  which  I  am  a  stranger.  At 
noon  Mr.  Sh river  came  over  from  Baltimore, 
bringing  us  letters.  Evening  finds  us  packing 
for  home. 

To-day  Mrs.  M.  and  Maud  attended  the  Pres 
ident's  reception.  It  continues  sultry  and  sick 
ening.  During  the  calm  of  twilight  Mr.  Shriver 
took  Evie  and  myself  for  a  drive  and  kindly 
introduced  us  to  parts  of  the  city  with  a  view 
of  which  we  had  not  before  been  favored. 

The  Chinese  Legation,  and  mansions  of  the 
British  and  French  Legations,  with  others,  and 
the  fire-ruined  house  of  Secretary  Tracy,  wherein 
his  wife  perished,  the  house  of  interesting  his 
tory  occupied  by  Mr.  Blaine,  and  innumerable 
others  were  shown  us,  with  a  thousand  objects 


142  SNAP  NOTES. 

of  remark  and  interest.  The  bronze  figures  of 
our  national  heroes  adorning  every  available 
space  of  ground  stand  out  in  bold  relief  'twixt 
our  vision  and  the  opaline  •sky. 

The  evening  was  lovely.  The  delightful  out 
ing  ended,  we  retraced  our  course,  to  regain  our 
rooms  for  early  rest. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

LAST  DAYS  IN  MARYLAND. 

Tuesday,  September  29. 

TTAVE  bad  no  sleep,  and  but  little  rest  all 
-*--*-  night.  I  am  pleased  that  it  is  our  last 
day  in  Washington,  which  handsome  city  I 
haveheen  able  to  only  dreamily  enjoy,  the  ener 
vating  climate  having  deprived  me  of  all  energy 
and  spirit  to  mingle  in  scenes  around  which 
the  enchantment  of  interest  revolves. 

We  take  leave  of  Martin,  who  keeps  bravely 
up  in  parting  with  his  loved  ones.  Our  belong 
ings  having  been  forwarded  to  the  depot,  Mr. 
Shriver  takes  charge  of  the  party  and  accom 
panies  us  to  Baltimore,  where  we  are  to  take 
the  afternoon  train  on  our  homeward-bound 
trip.  The  Rennert  is  gained  about  noon.  I 
feel  wretchedly  ill,  alternately  feverish  and 
chilly,  and  cross  as  a  bear.  I'm  sure  everybody 
will  know  that  I  am  a  "  native  daughter  of  the 
Golden  West."  Our  Baltimore  friends  called 
to  wish  us  Godspeed  and  prevailed  in  soft  per 
suasion  to  postpone  our  departure  until  the 

(143) 


144  SNAP  NOTES. 

morrow.  Mr.  Shriver  and  Mr.  Tom  Foley  ten 
dered  us  "a. spin"  through  the  park,  which  was 
exceedingly  pleasant  to  those  feeling  well  and 
bright. 

Having  accepted  Mrs.  Mark  Shriver's  invita 
tion  to  tea,  and  to  spend  the  evening  in  her 
sweet  home  of  domestic  bliss,  thither  we  re 
paired  as  the  dusky  brow  of  eventide  began  to 
lower.  A  warm  welcome  from  the  kindliest 
hearts  in  Baltimore,  and  the  evening's  pleasure 
was  assured.  With  my  dear  favorite,  old  Hor 
ace,  I  sincerely  believe  that  nothing  on  this 
earth  can  "with  a  true,  genial  friend  compare," 
and  such  I  take  our  host  to  be,  and  his  lovely, 
amiable,  dark-eyed  wife.  After  the  prettily- 
served  supper,  Mr.  Foley  escorted  Misses  Maud 
and  Evie  to  the  theater,  and  the  rest  sped  the 
winging  hours  with  cards. 

During  the  evening  Mr.  C.  C.  Shriver  and 
his  charming  wife,  formerly  Miss  Fuine,  of  Vir 
ginia,  dropped  in,  and  in  the  opportunity  of 
fered  to  become  acquainted  through  conversa 
tional  influence  with  her  admirable  character, 
I  did  not  regret  the  awkwardness  of  card  han 
dling  that  kept  me  from  joining  the  players  to 
night. 

With  the  waning  hour  towards  midnight 
we  betook  ourselves  hotel  ward,  and,  in  parting, 


LAST  DAYS  IN  MARYLAND.  145 

the  refrain  of  Moore,  so  full  of  sentiment,  welled 
upward  from  my  heart: — 

"  Farewell!  but  whenever  you  welcome  the  hour 
That  awakens  the  night  song  of  mirth  in  your  bower, 
Then  think  of  the  friend  who  once  welcom'd  it  too, 
And  forgot  his  own  griefs  to  be  happy  with  you." 

Wednesday,  September  30. 

With  the  first  burst  of  daylight  I  am  up  and 
about.  Mr.  Foley  and  Miss  Lillie  called,  hav 
ing  traveled  from  "Enniscorthy"this  morning. 
Upon  invitation  I  accompany  them  to  their  city 
house,  through  which  Lillie  leads  me  to  inspect 
the  comfortably-planned,  elegantly-furnished 
home,  whose  solid  joys  keep  happy  the  winter 
and  spring  months  of  the  year,  the  summer  and 
autumn  calling  its  cherished  inmates  to  the  sea 
of  greenery  swelling  and  encompassing  sweet 
"Enniscorthy." 

We  return  for  breakfast  at  eleven  o'clock, 
after  which  Miss  Lillie  and  Mr.  Charlie 
Murphy,  of  Baltimore,  take  us  to  visit  the 
Johns  Hopkins  Hospital,  a  munificently  en 
dowed  institution  for  the  needy,  and  conducted 
on  plans  of  magnificent  liberality.  Of  the  staff 
of  physicians  in  charge,  Dr.  Osier,  a  refined- 
looking,  entertaining  gentleman,  politely  at 
tends  us  through  the  beautifully-kept  dormi 
tories,  wards,  halls,  and  rooms,  and  throughout 
I  note  with  inquisitive  glance  all  modern  im- 

10 


146  SNAP  NOTES. 

provements  and  convenient  appurtenances, 
with  a  ventilating  system  peculiarly  its  own. 
Rooms  of  superior  comfort  are  reserved  for 
those  able  to  pay.  The  staff  of  nurses  is  not 
excelled  in  America;  nearly  all  are  young, 
strong,  healthy-looking  girls,  under  the  care 
and  direction  of  a  competent  matron.  The 
hospital  is  the  gift  of  Johns  Hopkins,  a  worthy 
and  creditable  philanthropist  of  Baltimore, 
who  died  about  eight  years  ago,  and  is  now  des 
ignated  as  "St.  Johns  Hopkins"  by  his  admir 
ing  friends. 

The  memorial  room  is  fittingly  furnished 
with  his  own  belongings.  Particularly  at 
tractive  is  a  long,  expensive,  massively- carved 
black  table,  with  six  legs,  placed  in  the  center 
of  the  room.  Bric-a-brac,  rich  and  rare,  adorn 
the  walls,  and  from  this  room  one  carries  away 
a  unique  impression. 

The  Nurses'  Home  adjoins  the  hospital  build 
ings,  and  we  were  permitted  a  peep  into  the 
matron's  apartments,  which  bespeak  the  char 
acteristics  of  the  occupant,  respectability  and 
strict  sense  of  discipline  every  where  discern 
ible.  The  genial  Dr.  Osier  cunningly  invited 
us  to  join  the  force  of  nurses,  and,  as  induce 
ment,  admitted  that  one  of  the  most  aristocratic 
members  of  the  medical  staff  had  lately  mar 
ried  one  of  the  trained  nurses — inducement 
enough,  and  promotion. 


L  A  S T  DA  YS  IN  MA  I?  YLAND.  1 47 

I  am  gratified  with  the  pleasure  afforded  by 
this  visit  to  the  Hopkins  Hospital,  and  have 
enjoyed  it  thoroughly.  Reaching  the  hotel, 
we  find  Mrs.  Frank  Smith,  a  friend  of  Miss 
Foley's,  who  has  called  to  meet  us,  on  Lillie's 
invitation.  She  is  a  gentle,  suave  lady,  refined 
and  kind.  Mr.  Herbert  Shriver  and  his  chil 
dren  also  greet  us,  soon  followed  by  Mr.  Foley, 
and  Messrs.  Al.  Myer  and  Tom  Foley.  At  1:30 
we  accept  Mr.  A.  K.  Shriver's  invitation  to 
lunch,  and  at  table  form  an  interesting  group. 

At  2:30  we  drive  to  the  B.  &  0.  R.  R  Depot, 
and  sorrowfully  say  farewell  to  the  dear  friends 
who  have  been  so  hospitable  and  kind  during 
our  stay  in  their  midst.  Mr.  Shriver,  however, 
takes  advantage  of  our  westward  course  to 
make  a  business  trip  to  St.  Louis,  and  we  are 
delighted,  having  found,  too,  the  need  of  a  man 
a  distressing  reality. 

Turning  from  Baltimore  we  run  into  Wash 
ington,  remaining  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes, 
then  steam  directly  west,  en  route  for  Cincin 
nati.  About  eighty  miles  from  Baltimore, 
along  the  Potomac  and  its  canal,  we  come  to 
the  oft-heard-of  Harper's  Ferry,  and  cross  the 
Potomac  at  its  junction  with  the  Shenandoah. 
The  Blue  Ridge  drags  its  length  to  the  east 
ward.  The  peak  of  Jefferson's  Rock,  where 
the  noble  statesman  harangued  the  people,  to 


148  SNAP  NOTES. 

the  left,  almost  overhangs  old  "John  Brown's 
Fort,"  and  the  village  which  was  once  the  place 
for  manufacturing  arms,  etc.,  for  the  govern 
ment.  The  "Fort"  is  a  small  brick  house  and 
is  not  formidable-looking,  yet  I  suppose  has 
served  its  purpose.  Stonewall  Jackson's  posi 
tion  on  the  bluff  holding  possession  of  the  val 
ley  is  proudly  indicated,  when  General  Banks 
was  driven  back  in  slaughter.  The  arsenal 
was  burned,  of  course,  but  its  foundation  re 
mains,  ruined  and  worthless. 

The  broad  valley  of  Virginia  stretches  be 
tween  the  Blue  Ridge  and  Alleghanies,  in 
places  thirty  miles  in  extent,  and  is  a  beautiful, 
wooded,  fertile  country,  fully  recovered  from 
the  results  of  the  army  inroads  thirty  years 
ago.  It  runs  south,  or  to  the  left  of  us,  and  the 
Cumberland  sweeps  to  the  north  'neath  the 
shadow  of  the  Blue  Ridge.  Winding  along  the 
south  bank  of  the  Potomac,  we  pass  through 
and  witness  scenery  as  boldly  grand  and  pic 
turesque  as  may  be  found  in  any  part  of  Swit 
zerland,  or  other  boasted  scenic  country  of  Eu 
rope. 

West  Virginia  is  now  to  be  seen  at  its  best. 
The  scarlet  leaves  of  the  dogwood  are  being  re 
touched  by  nature's  brush,  and  other  brilliant 
foliage  charms  the  sight  and  claims  the  ad 
miration  of  nature's  lovers  of  the  beautiful. 


LA  S  T  DA  YS  IN  MA  R  YLA NO.  1 49 

The  reflection  of  mountains,  trees,  blossomed 
bushes,  and  tangled  shrubbery  in  the  clear 
streams  is  enchanting — almost  ideal.  War- 
noted  hamlets,  among  which  is  Martinsburg, 
are  being  indicated  by  Mr.  Shriver,  who  is 
familiar  with  the  country  hereabout. 

As  twilight  settles  upon  the  silent  waters  of 
the  river,  it  tips  its  softly-flowing  ripples  with 
silver  and  throws  the  tree  shadows  in  darker 
relief,  and  still  we  skurry  along  at  tremendous 
rate,  halting  but  a  moment  at  intervening  sta 
tions  between  Harper's  Ferry  and  Cumberland, 
a  distance  of  one  hundred  miles.  Cumberland, 
the  queen  city  of  the  Alleghanies,  is  very  pret 
tily  nestled  in  the  heart  of  the  mountains,  but 
the  darkening  night  clouds  nearly  conceal 
its  beauties.  The  Narrows  suggest  the  Colo 
rado  Gorge,  and  Deer  Park  is  brilliantly  ablaze 
with  electric  light.  Garrett's  Cottage,  wherein 
Mr.  Cleveland  spent  his  honeymoon  with  his 
lovely  bride,  is  a  feature  of  the  place.  I  regret 
that  the  afterglow  of  sunset  has  faded,  evening 
has  merged  into  night,  and  I  must  retire  with 
out  further  view  of  this  exquisite  picture  on 
nature's  own  canvas,  which  I  so  much  enjoy. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

HOMEWARD   BOUND. 
Thursday,   October  1. 

~T>  ESTLESS  and  unrefreshed,  I  am  wearily 
•-^  dull.  We  crossed  the  Ohio  River  near  Mari 
etta  during  the  "wee  sma'  hours  of  the  dawn," 
and  reached  Cincinnati  at  7:30,  but  could  not 
remain  long,  so  boarded  the  Ohio  and  Mississ 
ippi  train  for  Louisville,  Kentucky.  Coursing 
along  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  with  Kentucky  on 
our  left,  we  pass  into  Indiana  and  find  that  same 
ness  in  the  scenery  which  wearies,  although  it  is 
a  beautiful,  richly-endowed  country.  At  North 
Vernon,  Indiana,  we  take  a  direct  course  south 
ward  to  Louisville.  It  is  quite  warm,  but 
pleasant. 

Cincinnati  is  a  business  breathing  city;  its 
people  are  active,  and  commendably  attentive 
to  their  own  affairs.  The  sandy  banks  of  the 
Ohio,  with  its  slow-moving  waters  on  our  left, 
is  spanned  by  two  immense  railroad  bridges, 
one  leading  to  Covington,  Kentucky,  the  other 
taking  us  along  the  road  to  Louisville.  We 

(150) 


HOMEWARD  BOUND.  151 

recross  the  Ohio  near  the  latter  city,  and  for  the 
first  time  I  see  canal  locks  and  am  shown  how 
they  operate,  the  Ohio  River  having  a  canal 
here  that  is  kept  in  order,  the  river  proper  be 
ing  liable  to  change. 

We  arrive  in  Louisville  at  high  noon,  and 
register  at  Louisville  Hotel.  The  town  is  lit 
erally  alive  with  people,  who  are  celebrating 
the  Harvest  Festival  with  processions,  balls, 
fairs,  etc.  The  prettiest  women  and  hand 
somest  men  I  have  yet  seen  are  in  this  city. 
To-night  they  are  crowding  the  hotel,  and  the 
streets  are  lined  with  people. 

We  took  a  carriage  to-day  and  went  wherever 
fancy  suggested.  Drove  down  the  fine  thorough 
fare  called  Broad  way,  where  we  noted  handsome 
residences,  also  saw  the  new  custom  house,  and 
the  handsome  Union  Depot.  Drove  into  and 
around  Mr.  Dupont's  private  park,  a  tame,  old- 
fashioned  looking  place.  In  all  the  city  have 
only  seen  two  superior  teams  of  carriage  horses, 
whereas  I  looked  for  fine  horses  everywhere  in 
Kentucky.  Mules  there  are  without  number 
or  character,  with  darkies  as  Jehus  in  every 
instance. 

We  take  supper,  and  at  eight  o'clock  start  for 
St.  Louis  on  the  0.  &  M.,  sleeping  on  the  train. 

Friday ',  October  2. 

Upon  arriving  at  St.  Louis  we  were  taken  di- 


152  SNAP  NOTES. 

rectly  to  the  Southern  Hotel.     After  some  delay, 
Mr.  S.  succeeded  in  securing  rooms,  although 
every  one  had  been  engaged,  it  being  the  carni 
val  week,  and  fete  of  the  Veiled  Prophet.     The 
hotel  is   now   said  to  be   absolutely  fireproof, 
and  is  carried  on  on  the  American  plan,     It  is 
thronged  with    guests.     The  city  is  elegantly 
illuminated.     Broadway  Street  is  lit  up  in  half 
circles  across  the  thoroughfare,  and  others  have 
lamps   within   globes   for   a   stretch    of  seven 
miles,  giving  an  enchantingly  beautiful  effect- 
During  the  forenoon  we  rested.     Early  in  the 
afternoon  Miss  O'Meara  and  Miss  Taylor,  with 
her  brother,  called  to  arrange  for  a  drive.     I 
decline  to  go,  as  my  malarial  tendency  is  again 
troubling  me,  and  I  prefer  to  follow  the  doctor's 
orders  and  try  to  rest.     In  the  evening  we  all 
attend  the  Royal  Arcanum  Society's  Concert, 
by  Gilmore's  Band,  a  charitable  institution  for 
the  benefit  of  widows  and  orphans.     Some  of 
the  music  is  of  a  high  order,  and  the  songs  by 
the  male  quartette  are  very  fine.     We  returned 
early,  to  seek  needed  repose. 

Saturday,  October  3. 

Misses  O'Meara  and  Taylor  called  to  guide  us 
around  town,  and  conducted  us  to  the  public 
library,  a  well-filled  establishment  of  select 
reading  matter  splendidly  arranged,  under  the 


HOMEWARD  BOUND.  153 

superintendence  of  Mr.  Anderson,  a  scholarly 
man,  with  literary  taste.  A  superbly  carved 
figure  in  wood  of  Robert  Burns,  with  four  of 
his  best  poems  illustrated  on  the  pedestal,  is  a 
unique  piece  of  art  I  particularly  admired  in 
one  corner  of  a  room  adjoining  the  library. 
Other  fine  art  treasures  belong  here,  and  some 
valuable  canvases  are  stored  on  its  walls. 

Jewelry  stores  are  next  visited  for  souvenir 
spoons,  and,  as  usual,  Mrs.  Murphy  favors  me 
with  another.  My  friends  are  about  to  attend 
the  matinee,  so  I  return  to  the  Southern,  to 
await  their  coming  to  dinner  at  five. 

In  the  meantime  I  take  an  outing  in  the 
park.  A  life-size  statue  of  Frank  Blair,  who 
saved  Missouri  from  secession,  stands  at  the 
entrance.  The  park  is  a  pretty  driveway,  and 
does  not  seem  as  large  as  I  am  told  it  is,  being 
second  to  Fairmount  in  size.  Druid  Hill  is 
still  my  favorite. 

We  dined  at  five,  then  all  went  forth  to  view 
the  illuminations,  which  presented  a  Monte 
Christo  effect  at  night — the  most  charming  and 
beautiful  scene  I  ever  witnessed,  as  a  varied  and 
magnificent  luminance. 

Miss  Tessie  O'Meara,  who  is  the  soul  of  hos 
pitality,  manifests  a  cheerfulness  in  dispensing 
it  that  is  fascinatingly  magnetic.  She  invites 
us  to  her  "sweet  home"  for  a  few  hours,  where 

gi^s: 

or  THB 

UHIVBBSITY] 


154  SNAP  NOTES. 

we  pleasantly  discuss  our  trip  over  a  menu  of 
unexcelled  delicacy  and  liberal  provision,  after 
which,  with  a  little  music  and  conversazione,  we 
discover  the  hours  far  advanced  and  take  the 
cars  at  the  door  for  the  Southern.  Mr.  John 
O'Meara  gracefull}r  shares  with  his  sister  the 
happy  privilege  of  dispensing  the  honors  of 
the  house,  and  I  judge  him  to  be  a  man  of  lofty 
principles,  whose  character,  I'm  told,  soars 
above  reproach.  The  mainstay  and  strength 
of  the' household,  he  lovingly  assists  in  rocking 
the  "  cradle  of  declining  age,"  for  his  gentle 
mother  is  advanced  to  the  years  of  Dr.  Oliver 
Wendell  Homes,  and  celebrates  her  birthday 
on  the  same  date  with  the  venerable  author. 

October  4- 

We  attempted  to  attend  mass  at  nine  o'clock, 
but  the  hour  has  been  changed  for  the  summer. 
I  feel  very  weak  and  feverish,  and  am  obliged 
to  keep  my  room  for  the  day.  Had  my  dinner 
upstairs,  but  at  four  o'clock  am  prepared  for  the 
evening,  when  we  shall  take  our  departure  for 
the  far  West.  Mrs.  Murphy  and  the  rest  at 
tended  mass,  then  spent  some  time  at  the  Con 
vent  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  at  Maryville,  and 
returned  at  five.  After  supper  our  St.  Louis 
friends  attend  us  to  the  Union  Depot,  and  at 
8:15  we  enter  the  "  Clebourne"  sleeper,  and,  hav 
ing  crossed  the  river,  retire  for  the  night. 


HOMEWARD  SOUND.  155 

October  5. 

Awoke  this  morning  in  St.  Joseph's,  an  ex 
tensive  city,  but  at  one  time  a  modest  trad 
ing  post.  It  was  to  this  vicinity,  I  believe,  that 
our  pioneers  first  drifted.  They  then  settled  in 
Atchison  County,  which,  being  subdivided, 
located  them  in  Holt  County,  after  which  they 
determined  to  go  farther  west,  and  successfully 
reached  our  peerless  sunland.  The  remains  of 
Grandmother  Murphy  rest  in  Missouri  soil, 
therefore  the  grand  old  State  has  a  claim  to  our 
reverence  and  affection. 

Our  attentive,  generous,  patient  escort,  Mr. 
Shriver,  parts  with  us  here,  after  carefully  at 
tending  to  the  details  of  our  baggage,  and 
making  everything  as  easy  as  possible  for  us. 
He  has  been  most  kind  and  thoughtful  for  our 
comfort,  yet  the  "best  of  friends  must  part." 

Steaming  over  the  southernmost  line  of  Ne 
braska,  we  find  it  dried  and  bleak  looking,  illy 
comparing  with  its  fresh  green  appearance  of 
two  months  ago.  Here  it  is  raining.  A  heavy, 
leaden  sky  throws  a  gray  gloom  over  the  land 
scape.  We  are  on  the  Burlington  and  Missouri 
River  Railroad  until  we  reach  Denver,  then 
change  to  another  sleeper,  this  one  returning  to 
St.  Louis. 

Tuesday,  October  6. 
In  Nebraska  we  encounter  snow;    it  is  ev- 


156  SNAP  NOTES. 

erywhere  visible  to  Denver,  where  we  are 
brought  to  a  sudden  halt  by  our  engine  jump 
ing  the  track,  and  we  stop  with  a  quick  jolt. 
Ordering  a  carriage,  Mrs.  Murphy  takes  charge, 
and  we  are  rapidly  deposited  at  the  Union 
Depot,  where  she  secures  passage  on  the  next 
train  to  Salt  Lake.  Breakfasting  at  the  depot 
restaurant,  the  steward  comes  forward  to  inquire 
regarding  our  whereabouts  since  he  had  seen 
us  at  the  Windsor  two  months  ago.  We  are 
all  amused,  and  Evie's  countenance  is  sub 
merged  in  laughter. 

On  the  "  Buda  "  vestibule  car  we  resume  our 
journey.  Snow,  snow,  snow,  on  every  side. 
The  mountain  steeps,  rugged  and  wild,  are 
wrapped  in  soft  white  blankets  of  snow,  and  as 
we  approach  the  great  Royal  Gorge  of  the 
Arkansas,  we  take  seats  at  the  rear  of  the  car  to 
get  the  benefit  of  the  view.  The  cliffs  seem 
very  familiar  to  me,  so  indelibly  impressed  are 
they  upon  my  memory.  The  rest  of  the  party 
seem  very  well,  but  I  feel  weary  and  weak. 
We  lunched  on  the  cars  at  Palmer  Lake,  and 
dined  at  Salida,  Monte  Christo  Hotel,  where 
we  had  a  good  warm  meal. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

SALT  LAKE  CITY. 

Wednesday,  October  7. 

WE  are  up  at  7  o'clock  and  breakfast  at 
Palmer  House,  near  the  desert.  A  few 
miles  more  and  we  cross  Green  River  and  come 
upon  the  desert,  which  we  traveled  over  by 
night  before.  It  is  a  lengthy  stretch  of  desolate, 
sandy  country,  with  only  here  and  there  tufts 
of  desert  grass.  Sand  is  drifting  everywhere, 
and  the  eye  only  meets  desolation  as  it  wanders 
in  search  of  an  oasis. 

We  reach  Price  about  eleven  o'clock  and 
lunch  on  the  car,  as  we  pass  through  Castle 
Gate.  Here  a  jewelry  vender  enters  our  par 
lors  and  Mrs.  Murphy  purchases  spoons,  etc. 
Evie  asked  the  name  of  a  station,  and  the  itiner 
ant  jeweler  answered,  "' Helper,'  and  don't  you 
think  one  needs  a  helper  here  ?  "  Evie  collapsed . 

The  foliage  has  all  changed.  The  gorgeous 
dyes  of  Autumn,  the  full-blown  matron  of  the 
year,  are  in  strong  contrast  with  the  green  of 
two  short  months  ago.  Only  industry  and 

(167) 


158  SNAP  NOTES. 

Mormonism  could  thrive  in  this  sage -ridden 
country.  The  Book  Mountains  are  a  curiosity 
indeed,  the  strata,  or  layers,  lying  like  books, 
even  and  continuous,  and  they  carry  the  eye 
along  in  wonder  until  the  next  bowlder  repeats 
the  last  or  reaches  more  determinedly  to  cloud- 
land. 

At  two  o'clock  we  steam  along  through  the 
happily  reel  aimed  Great  Salt  Lake  Valley,  which 
is  again  extended  before  us  for  miles  under 
greenswards  and  teeming  orchards.  The  city 
of  Zion  gained  at  four  o'clock,  we  listen  to  the 
repetition  of  Albany's  confusion  of  hackmen, 
and  finally  secure  the  Walker  House  coach. 
At  the  hotel  I  find  a  letter  awaiting  me  from 
Josie,  which,  of  course,  I  eagerly  read. 

Mrs.  Murphy  ordered  a  carriage,  and  we 
were  driven  by  a  cockney  coachman  all  over 
the  city,  and,  being  glib  of  tongue  and  full  of 
wit,  we  had  double  benefit  in  our  sight- seeing. 
Temple  Square  incloses  the  tabernacle  and 
temple,  but  their  doors  had  just  been  closed, 
and  we  were  deprived  of  an  interesting  sight. 
The  Assembly  House  is  also  a  feature  in  this 
square  of  fine  buildings.  Thence  we  viewed 
all  the  late  Brigham  Young's  possessions,  his 
own  grounds  being  defended  by  an  adobe  and 
stone  wall.  The  graveyard  where  lie  his  re 
mains  is  in  the  center  of  the  town  almost,  and 


SALT  LAKE  CITY.  159 

beside  him  repose  six  of  his  wives.  "The  rest 
are  with  the  prophets."  We  were  shown  two 
of  his  daughters  and  a  son  and  I  think  about 
&  thousand  sons-in-law  and  other  connections. 
The  Tithe  house  adjoins  Brigham  Young's 
dwelling,  but  the  Endowment  house  has  been 
burned  down.  The  far-famed  prophet  Young 
had  been  the  father  of  sixty-one  children,  but 
only  eighteen  were  living  at  the  time  of  his 
death — enough,  however,  to  perpetuate  his 
name. 

We  saw  three  of  the  twelve  disciples.  There 
is  nothing  suggestive  of  religious  dignity  in 
their  bearing  or  manner.  Mormonism  has 
been  somewhat  bettered  of  late  years.  The 
Edmunds  Bill,  considerable  legislation,  and 
Mrs.  Walker's  and  Miss  Kate  Field's  lectures 
have  all  contributed  towards  the  amelioration 
of  the  deluded  Mormon  women,  who  formerly 
were  the  slaves  of  the  elders.  The  number  of 
wives  is  limited,  and  the  husband  is  required 
to  support  all  properly.  It  is  said  that  some  of 
the  elders'  wives  agree  perfectly,  drive  out  to 
gether,  dine,  and  call,  and  tender  to  each  the 
courtesy  of  refinement  and  respect,  whereas 
other  wives  do  not  even  glance  at  each  other: 
it  is  a  trial  of  temperament  and  character. 

From  Prospect  Hill  we  watched  the  sun  sink 
ing  down  the  western  sky,  its  brilliant  gleams 


160  SNAP  NOTES. 

reflected  most  gorgeously  in  the  calm,  broad 
waters  of  Great  Salt  Lake ;  it  was  a  beautiful 
picture.  The  Jordan  winds  its  way  to  the  lake. 

We  are  in  the  city  of  Zion;  the  apostles  are  here. 
May  it  not  be  the  New  Jerusalem?  Yet  no, 
for  the  Jews  are  Gentiles  here.  Well,  it  is  a  fine 
city.  The  streets  are  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
five  feet  wide,  with  twenty  feet  for  sidewalks. 
The  trees  are  thrifty,  varied,  and  numerous. 
We  are  shown  the  residence  of  Bishop  Scan- 
Ian,  built  of  brick,  with  stone  front,  also  the 
church. 

After  a  look  at  Fort  Douglas,  the  rough  spurs 
of  the  Uintahs,  the  pass  through  which  the 
hardy  Mormons  entered  the  valley,  we  return 
to  the  Walker  and  dine.  We  take  a  room  for 
the  night,  and  at  12:30  P.  M.  we  are  ready  for 
the  West-bound  train,  whereon  Mrs.  Murphy 
has  secured  a  drawing  room.  Upon  presenting 
our  tickets,  however,  it  is  discovered  that  the 
drawing  room  has  been  sold  in  Chicago  through 
to  California,  so  we  hearken  to  an  animated 
discussion  between  the  guilty  agent  and  Mrs. 
Murphy,  and  the  mistake  is  finally  adjusted 
after  wre  reach  Ogden.  They  give  us  three 
lower  berths,  so,  at  two  o'clock,  we  claim  them, 
very  weary-eyed  and  languid. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

HOME  AGAIN. 

Thursday,  October  8. 

AWOKE  at  Terrace,  Nevada,  The  same  old 
bleak,  bald  pate  of  the  prairie  looms  up  be 
fore  us,  and  the  wings  of  desolation,  folded  since 
we  left  the  Colorado  desert,  have  been  flapped 
over  this  dreary,  lonesome  place.  Our  breakfast 
is  served  from  the  buffet.  The  porter  informs  us 
that  we  shall  reach  San  Francisco  at  9:15  to 
morrow  morning,  which  for  me  means  that  I 
gain  the  threshold  of  home  in  the  evening,  and 
be  again  amongst  rny  loved  ones.  It  seems  so 
long  since  I  left  them,  and  in  the  quietude  of 
that  happy  scene  of  serenity  and  love,  I  shall 
experience  indescribable  pleasure  in  relating 
the  incidents  of  this  tour  and  the  enjoyment  it 
has  afforded  me. 

We  reached  Elko  at  noon,  and  received  the 
San  Francisco  papers,  looking  at  them  as  into 
the  faces  of  familiar  acquaintances.  I  have 
felt  ill  all  day,  and  as  night  draws  her  man 
tle,  am  ready  for  repose.  There  are  several 

11  (161) 


102  SXAP  NOTES. 

peculiar   characters   on  board,  who  present  a 
different  phase  of  life  to  those  unsophisticated 
in  its  ways,  as  myself,  and  they  are  a  source  of 
disgust  to  us. 
Friday,  October  9. 

During  the  night  we  passed  over  the  Sierras, 
and  I  have  again  missed  seeing  them.  At  five 
o'clock  this  morning  we  stopped  at  Sacramento, 
and  we  rise,  dress  for  sight-seeing,  and  behold 
the  broad  bosom  of  the  Sacramento  Valley 
bared  before  us.  There  is  a  familiar  look  to 
the  country,  and  erelong  we  steam  into  Benicia, 
thence  crossing  on  the  Solano,  whose  motion  is 
hardly  perceptible.  The  serrated  peninsula  of 
Marin  lies  dreamily  on  our  right,  the  calm  blue 
waters  of  San  Pablo  laving  its  base,  as  they 
shine  in  the  morning  sunlight. 

At  9:15  we  step  off  the  ferryboat  fit  the  foot 
of  Market  Street,  and  friends  near  and  dear 
greet  us  home,  and  we  keenly  realize  that 

o  •> 

"  'Mid  pleasures  and  palaces,"  etc., 

"There's  no  place  like  home." 
And  now  my  companions  go  south  to  San 
Jose,  and  I  turn  north  to  San  Rafael,  each  filled 
with  happy   meinorie^^fegJa^gure  given    and 
received. 


WVBRSITY 


